UC-NRLF 


#t 


P* 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

GIFT  OF 

The  Estate  of 
Mrs.  Sophie  D.  Browi 


• 


X  >  >»* 


x  V 


THE  FATE  OF  THE  VERY  GREATEST 

I  have  sometimes  amused  myself  by  endeavoring  to  fancy 
what  would  be  the  fate  of  an  individual  gifted,  or  rather  accursed, 
with  an  intellect  very  far  superior  to  that  of  his  race.  Of  course,  he 
would  be  conscious  of  his  superiority;  nor  could  he  (if  otherwise 
constituted  as  man  is)  help  manifesting  his  consciousness*  Thus  he 
would  make  himself  enemies  at  all  points.  And  since  his  opinions 
and  speculations  would  widely  differ  from  those  of  all  mankind— 
that  he  would  be  considered  a  madman  is  evident.  How  horribly 
painful  such  a  condition  I  Hell  could  invent  no  greater  torture  than 
that  of  being  charged  with  abnormal  weakness  on  account  of  being 
abnormally  strong. 

In  like  manner,  nothing  can  be  clearer  than  that  a  very  gen 
erous  spirit— truly  feeling  what  all  merely  profess— must  inevitably 
find  itself  misconceived  in  every  direction— its  motives  misinterpreted. 

EDGAR  ALLAN  POE. 


MADE    BY 

THE  WERNER  COMPANY 

AKRON,    OHIO 


O 


Centenarp  <£t»ition 


The  Complete  tf^orks  of 


With  Biography  and 

Introduction 

by 

NATHAN  HASKELL  DOLE 


TEN  VOLUMES 

Illustrated 


Clje  dlerner  Company 


Edition 


tuition  LtmtteU  to  ®nc 

jBumftereU  ^ete  of  tol)tc|) 
is 


COPYRIGHT    1908 

BY 
THE    WERNER     COMPANY 


FOG 


v.i 


TALES 


CONTENTS 


VOLUMB  I. 

BERENICE  ........ 

THE   UNPARALLELED   ADVENTURE  OF   ONE    HANS   PFAALL 
MS.    FOUND   IN   A   BOTTLE  ..... 

THE   ASSIGNATION  ...... 

MORELLA  ........ 

BON-BON       ...*.... 

LIONIZING        ........ 

THE  DUG  DE  L'OMELETTE     ..... 

SHADOW:   A  PARABLE      ...... 

LOSS  OF  BREATH         .        .        .        .        . 

KING  PEST       ........ 

METZENGERSTEIN         ...... 

WILLIAM  WILSON     ....... 

A  TALE  OF  JERUSALEM         ..... 

FOUR  BEASTS  IN  ONE        ...... 

THE  FALL  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  USHER      .         .         . 
THE  MAN  THAT  WAS  USED  UP  Y    „        0        .        • 


PACE 

9 

22 
I  GO 
Il6 
134 
143 
l68 
176 

182 

1  86 
2O5 
224 
237 
268 
274 
286 


(vfl) 


M877701 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

VOLUME    I. 

PACK 

EDGAR  ALLAN  POE  .  .  .  .  Frontispiece 

?T  SEEMED  TO  ME  THAT  I  HAD  NEWLY  AWAKENED 

FROM  A  CONFUSED  AND  EXCITING  DREAM  .  „  1 8 

HIS  EXCELLENCY  STOOPED  TO  TAKE  IT  UP  .  .  26 
I  FOUND  LITTLE  DIFFICULTY  IN  GAINING  THEM  OVER 

TO  MY  PURPOSE  .  .  .  .  70 
HE  PORED,  WITH  A  FIERY,  UNQUIET  EYE  OVER 

A  PAPER  .  I  12 

AND  THE  SHADOW  ANSWERED  I  "l  AM  SHADOW"  184 
THE  STEED  BOUNDED  FAR  UP  THE  TOTTERING 

STAIRCASES  OF  THE  PALACE  .  .  .  234 

CAN  I  —  SHALL  I  DESCRIBE  MY  SENSATIONS?  .  .  260 

1 '  MADMAN  !    I   TELL    YOU   THAT   SHE    NOW    STANDS 

WITHOUT   THE    DOOR"       .  .  .  .  .312 


,„. TTliffmiBil  I  •I1UJJJJM 


INTRODUCTION 


THE  LIFE  OF  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

BY 

NATHAN  HASKELL  DOLE 


IT  is  a  laudable  canon  of  Criticism  that 
works  of  Art  and  Literature  are  to  be 
judged  absolutely  on  their  merits,  with 
out  consideration  of  the  character  of  their 
originators.  Some  of  the  greatest  pro 
ductions  of  the  human  intellect  are  wholly  anony 
mous;  of  others  little  or  nothing  is  known  beyond 
the  names  or  dates  of  their  authors.  Time  invari 
ably  veils  all  personality.  The  life-work,  however 
involved  and  entangled  contemporarily  with  the  life, 
ultimately  crystallizes  out  from  the  mixture  and  stands 
alone.  Nevertheless  it  is  natural  to  desire  to  know 
all  we  can  about  artists  and  writers,  and  there  is 
often  much  in  their  lives  that  throws  light  on  the 
origin  and  significance  of  what  we  read,  see  or 
hear. 

Edgar  Allan  Poe,  whom  Tennyson  characterized 
as  "the  most  original  genius  that  America  has  pro 
duced,"  was  born  in  Boston  on  the  i9th  of  January, 
1809.  His  paternal  grandfather  was  General  David  Poe 

(i) 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

of  Baltimore,  whose  services  in  the  War  of  the  Rev 
olution  brought  him  the  friendship  of  La  Fayette. 
The  family  came  from  the  north  of  Ireland.  Poe  and 
his  Providence  affinity,  Mrs.  Sarah  Helen  Whitman, 
liked  to  amuse  themselves  by  tracing  their  pedigree 
back  to  a  common  ancestor  named  Le  Poers,  who 
went  from  Italy  to  France  and  from  France  across 
the  channel.  Enthusiastic  genealogists,  especially 
when  they  are  in  love,  easily  leap  a  gap  of  a  gene 
ration  or  two,  made  small  by  the  perspective  of 
time.  His  father,  the  eldest  of  General  Poe's  five 
sons,  and  the  only  one  who  married,  left  his  home, 
which  was  in  Augusta,  Georgia,  and  joined  a  com 
pany  of  English  actors,  in  1804.  When  the  director, 
C.  D.  Hopkins,  died  the  following  year,  David  mar 
ried  his  widow  who,  as  Elizabeth  Arnold,  is  said  to 
have  been  a  remarkably  talented  dancer,  singer  and 
actor.  She  had  also  a  talent  for  painting.  An  ex 
tant  miniature  gives  an  exquisite  likeness  of  the 
sylph-like  creature,  with  her  big  bright  eyes,  her 
vivacious  expression,  her  curly  hair  clustering  under 
a  quaint  bonnet  over  a  fair  brow,  her  bodice  cut  low 
and  high-girdled.  What  the  influence  of  this  por 
trait  had  upon  her  impressionable  son  may  be  easily 
gathered  from  a  perusal  of  his  weird  and  delicately 
imaginative  lyrics.  The  "Virginia  Comedians"  ap 
peared  in  various  places,  presenting  various  enter 
tainment  and  finally  arrived  in  Boston,  where  she 
danced,  sang  and  played  before  sympathetic  aud 
iences.  David  Poe  was  taken  ill  of  consumption 
and  vanished  from  sight.  A  child,  Rosalie,  believed 

(2) 


INTRODUCTION 

to  have  been  posthumous,  came  to  complicate  the 
poor  mother's  troubles.  The  exposures  and  priva 
tions  connected  with  the  life  of  "strolling  Thespians" 
in  those  early  days,  when  travel  was  rendered  a 
misery  by  slow  and  inconvenient  conveyances,  and 
when  the  actors'  profession  was  considered  far  more 
derogatory  than  it  is  at  present,  were  too  much 
for  Elizabeth  Poe.  After  a  heroic  struggle  to  support 
herself  and  her  little  family  of  three,  she  died  early 
in  December  at  Richmond,  where  her  company  was 
playing.  Charity  took  charge  of  the  children.  Henry 
had  already  been  adopted  by  his  grandfather;  Rosalie 
was  taken  by  a  Scotch  family  of  Mackenzies  who 
kept  a  young  ladies'  school;  John  Allan,  a  Scotchman, 
at  the  urgent  insistence  of  his  wife,  since  they  were 
childless,  but  contrary  to  his  own  wishes,  took  Ed 
gar,  who  was  a  bright,  precocious  boy.  The  Allans 
were  at  the  time  in  comparatively  humble  circum 
stances  and  lived  in  rooms  above  the  shop  in  which 
he  carried  on  trade. 

Allan  took  his  family  to  England  in  1815,  and 
Edgar  was  put  under  the  tuition  of  Dr.  Bransby 
at  the  Manor  House  School  at  Stoke  Newington, 
where  all  the  associations  were  eminently  historical 
and  literary.  He  visited  Scotland  and  the  Conti 
nent.  The  influence  of  this  environment  may  be 
traced  in  his  story  of  "William  Wilson."  Here  he 
began  his  classical  education,  which  on  his  return 
to  America,  five  years  later,  was  continued  under 
English  professors  until  he  entered  the  University  of 
Virginia  in  1826.  John  Allan  made  an  assignment 

(3) 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

in  1822,  but  his  fortunes  were  retrieved  in  1825  when 
he  received  a  large  share  of  the  fortune  of  his  uncle, 
William  Gait.  He  immediately  bought  a  large  house 
and  entered  into  the  wider  social  life  of  Richmond, 
then  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  aristocratic  cities 
of  the  South.  The  son  of  Allan's  partner  long  re 
membered  young  Poe  as  "a  very  beautiful  boy,  yet 
brave  and  manly  for  one  so  young  ...  a  leader 
among  his  playmates."  His  activity  sometimes  led 
him  into  mischief.  Once  he  was  whipped  by  Allan  for 
having  taken  young  Ellis  into  the  woods  and  keep 
ing  him  there  till  after  dark;  another  time  for  having 
shot  some  domestic  fowls  belonging  to  Judge  Bushrod 
Washington.  He  was  fond  of  swimming,  skating, 
and  playing  games.  He  once  swam  seven  miles  in 
the  James,  rivaling  Byron's  famous  feat.  He  had  a 
talent  for  declamation,  though  it  is  said  that  as  a  lec 
turer  in  later  life  he  was  not  particularly  eloquent. 
He  enjoyed  taking  part  in  private  theatricals.  The 
story  is  told  of  his  having  once  put  on  a  mask  and 
a  sheet  and  tried  to  frighten  a  company  of  gentle 
men  by  appearing  in  the  character  of  a  ghost.  Other 
practical  jokes  are  told  of  him.  One  of  his  school 
mates  called  him  a  liar,  and  though  he  was  generally 
peaceable  he  resented  the  term  and  administered  a 
sound  pummeling  to  his  opponent,  who  was  larger 
and  heavier  than  he.  It  is  a  moot  point  whether  he 
was  "retiring  in  disposition  and  singularly  unsociable 
in  manner"  or  fairly  cordial  and  friendly  with  his 
companions. 

While  at  the  Richmond  Academy  he  had  a  boyish 

(4) 


INTRODUCTION 

love  affair  which  had  a  profound  influence  on  his 
development.  The  mother  of  one  of  his  young  friends 
spoke  kindly  to  him  one  day  and  filled  his  heart 
with  vague  dreams.  She  immediately  became  his 
confidante  and  her  advice  was  frequently  whole 
some  for  him  when  thrown  into  temptation.  After 
her  death  in  1824  he  used  to  haunt  her  grave.  Her 
memory  is  enshrined  in  many  of  his  poems.  Mrs. 
Whitman  wrote  that  the  image  of  this  lady,  long  and 
tenderly  and  sorrowfully  cherished,  suggested  the 
stanzas  "To  Helen."  Her  real  name  was  Jane  —  a 
name  which  he  could  not  endure.  Poe  himself,  shortly 
before  his  death,  spoke  of  the  love  that  inspired 
these  almost  perfect  verses  as  "The  one,  idola 
trous  and  purely  ideal  love  of  his  passionate  boy 
hood."  The  title  to  the  earlier  version  of  "Lenore" 
was  "  Helen." 

He  had  another  early  and  more  practical  love- 
affair  with  a  young  lady  named  Sarah  Elmirah  Roys- 
ter.  He  became  engaged  to  her,  but  when  he  entered 
the  University  his  letters  to  her  were  intercepted  by 
her  father  who  thought  her  too  young  for  such  an 
entanglement.  Years  afterwards  she  wrote  enthusi 
astically  of  him,  declaring  that  he  was  a  gentleman 
in  every  sense  of  the  word  and  one  of  the  most  fas 
cinating  and  refined  men  she  had  ever  known.  She 
characterized  his  reticence,  his  sadness  of  expression, 
his  impulsive  and  enthusiastic  nature,  his  strong  preju 
dices,  his  hatred  of  everything  coarse  and  unrefined, 
his  generosity,  his  talent  for  drawing  and  his  pas 
sionate  love  for  music. 

(5) 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

— — 

Poe  had  spent  scarcely  six  months  in  his  foster- 
parents'  new  home,  when  he  was  sent  to  Jefferson's 
new  University  at  Charlottesville.  Of  the  eight  pro 
fessors  six  were  foreign-born  and  men  of  high  ac 
complishments.  It  may  have  well  been  that  Poe's 
English  training  had  specially  fitted  him  in  the  lan 
guages,  for  there  is  record  of  his  skill  in  capping 
Latin  verses,  and  a  voluntary  translation  which  he 
made  from  Tasso  brought  him  a  high  compli 
ment.  He  was  fond  of  reading  rather  abstruse  French 
books.  The  freedom  or  license  which  Jefferson  had 
taken  for  the  basis  of  the  University  training,  had  its 
undoubted  advantages,  but  the  lack  of  supervision 
was  disastrous  upon  the  life  of  such  a  youth  as 
Edgar  Allan  Poe. 

Although  many  of  the  young  men  who  were 
Poe's  college  contemporaries  rose  to  eminence, 
yet  there  was  unquestionably  an  unusual  amount  of 
dissipation  —  drinking,  gambling  and  other  riotous 
conduct.  Poe  had  more  pocket-money  than  was 
good  for  him,  and  while  he  took  advantage  of  the 
facilities  afforded  for  study  and  debate  —  he  was  Sec 
retary  of  the  JefTersonian  Society  and  was  reported 
as  excellent  in  the  Senior  Latin  and  Senior  French 
class — there  seems  to  be  no  doubt  that  he  involved 
himself  seriously  in  so-called  "  debts  of  honor."  When 
he  returned  to  Richmond  he  entered  Allan's  count 
ing-room;  but  when  that  gentleman  refused  to  sanc 
tion  Poe's  debts  —  amounting  to  about  $2,000  —  they 
quarreled  and  parted.  Poe  evidently  went  to  Boston; 


(6) 


INTRODUCTION 

for  there,  in  1827,  was  printed  by  Calvin  F.  S.  Thomas, 
a  tiny  forty-page  booklet  entitled  "Tamerlane  and 
Other  Poems  by  a  Bostonian."  On  the  back  of  a 
picture  which  Poe's  mother  had  painted  she  had  in 
scribed  these  words: — "For  my  little  son  Edgar, 
who  should  ever  love  Boston,  the  place  of  his  birth, 
and  where  his  mother  found  her  best  and  most  sympa 
thetic  friends."  It  may  be  that  Edgar  as  it  were  in 
stinctively  returned  to  his  birthplace  in  search  of 
some  of  these  friends.  It  has  been  pointed  out  that 
the  names  of  some  of  them  occur  in  Poe's  earlier 
stories. 

In  the  preface  to  Tamerlane  he  says: — "The 
greater  part  of  the  poems  which  compose  this  little 
volume  were  written  in  the  year  1821-2,  when  the 
author  had  not  completed  his  fourteenth  year.  They 
were  of  course  not  intended  for  publication;  why 
they  are  now  published  concerns  no  one  but  him 
self.  Of  the  smaller  pieces  very  little  need  be  said: 
they  perhaps  savor  too  much  of  egotism;  but  they 
were  written  by  one  too  young  to  have  any  knowl 
edge  of  the  world  but  from  his  own  breast.  .  .  . 
In  'Tamerlane'  he  has  endeavored  to  expose  the 
folly  of  even  risking  the  best  feelings  of  the  heart 
at  the  shrine  of  Ambition.  He  is  conscious  that  in 
this  there  are  many  faults  (besides  that  of  the 
general  character  of  the  poem),  which  he  flatters 
himself  he  could,  with  little  trouble,  have  corrected, 
but  unlike  many  of  his  predecessors  he  has  been  too 
fond  of  his  early  productions  to  amend  them  in  his 
old  age." 

(7) 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

He  was  eighteen  years  old!  Forty  copies  of  "  Tam 
erlane"  were  issued  and  most  of  these  have  disap 
peared.  When  a  supposed  unique  example  turned 
up,  seventy-three  years  later,  it  was  sold  for  more 
than  $2,500,  so  precious  was  this  first  flowering  of 
Poe's  genius  in  this  insignificant  little  brochure,  des 
tined  to  fall  unheeded  and  unknown.  Viewed  in  the 
light  of  his  later  achievements,  these  crude,  vague,  yet 
sometimes  melodious  trivialities  have  some  interest. 
How  Poe  got  the  money  to  print  "Tamerlane"  is 
not  known.  His  later  disgust  with  Boston  and  the 
Bostonians  (whom  he  calls  the  Frogpondians)  possibly 
dates  from  this  period.  At  Boston,  this  same  year, 
he  enlisted  as  a  private  in  the  regular  army  under 
the  name  of  Edgar  A.  Perry.  He  gave  his  occupa 
tion  as  that  of  a  clerk,  his  age  as  twenty-two;  the 
record  as  existing  in  army  documents  describes  his 
height  as  five  feet,  eight  inches,  his  eyes  grey,  his 
hair  brown  and  his  complexion  fair.  The  truth  is, 
if  his  own  description  may  be  taken  as  reliable,  his 
hair  was  black  and  wavy,  generally  worn  long,  of 
"weblike  softness  and  tenuity."  His  complexion, 
he  says,  was  cadaverous;  he  had  thin  and  pallid 
lips  with  a  remarkably  beautiful  curve;  his  nose  was 
of  a  delicate  Hebtew  model  but  with  abnormally 
broad  nostrils;  his  chin  was  finely  moulded  but 
wanting  moral  energy.  Bishop  D.  P.  FitzGerald 
describes  him  as  a  compact,  well-set  man,  about  five 
feet  six  inches  high,  straight  as  an  arrow,  easy- 
gaited,  with  white  linen  coat  and  trousers,  black 


(8) 


INTRODUCTION 

velvet  vest  and  broad  Panama  hat,  features  sad  yet 
finely  cut,  shapely  head  and  eyes  that  were  strangely 
magnetic  as  you  looked  into  them.  Others  who 
knew  him  spoke  of  his  large,  liquid  and  luminous 
eyes.  It  has  been  claimed  by  phrenologists  that; a 
line  dividing  his  face  perpendicularly  separated  very 
dissimilar  halves,  as  if  each  expressed  a  different 
side  of  his  nature. 

He  served  for  a  time  in  Fort  Independence  but  by 
the  first  of  October  was  at  Fort  Moultrie,  Charleston, 
S.  C.,  and  a  year  later  at  Fortress  Monroe  in  his  be 
loved  Virginia.  His  attainments  made  him  company 
clerk  and  assistant  in  the  commissariat  department. 
He  was  promoted  on  his  merits  to  be  sergeant-major. 
His  superiors  testified  to  his  "unexceptionable  con 
duct,"  his  good  habits,  his  exemplary  deportment,  his 
promptness  and  fidelity  in  the  discharge  of  his  duties, 
his  admirable  education  and  his  excellent  character. 
Echoes  of  his  army  service  are  discoverable  in  his 
stories,  "The  Gold  Bug,"  "The  Balloon  Hoax"  and 
"The  Man  That  Was  Used  Up."  He  communicated 
with  his  foster-father  in  the  early  part  of  1828  and  a 
few  days  after  the  death  of  Mrs.  Allan  was  in  Rich 
mond  on  leave  of  absence.  In  April,  he  was  honor 
ably  discharged  from  the  service  with  the  avowed 
intention  of  entering  West  Point,  where  his  classmate 
John  B.  Magruder  was  already  a  cadet.  This  com 
mission  he  secured  through  influential  friends  of  John 
Allan's,  and  he  entered  the  Academy  in  July,  1830, 
this  time  reporting  his  age  as  nineteen  years  and  five 
months. 

(9) 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 


In  the  meantime  he  brought  out  his  second  vol 
ume  entitled  "Al  Aaraaf,  Tamerlane,  and  Minor 
Poems  "  under  the  imprint  of  Hatch  &  Dunning,  of 
Baltimore.  It  is  described  as  a  thin  octavo  of  seventy- 
one  pages,  bound  in  boards,  crimson  sprinkled,  with 
yellow  linen  back.  "Tamerlane"  was  rewritten,  but 
was  still  left  vague  and  abrupt.  No  one  familiar 
with  the  "Endymion"  of  the  gifted  Keats,  written 
undoubtedly  at  about  the  same  relative  age  and  pub 
lished  nine  years  before,  can  read  the  smooth-flow 
ing  inconsequentiality  of  "Al  Aaraaf"  without  in 
stantly  recognizing  where  Poe  found  his  model.  There 
are  dozens  of  passages  where  the  phrasing,  the  use 
of  epithets,  the  classical  allusions,  the  turn  of  rhyme, 
the  rhythm,  and  the  meaningless,  meandering  evolu 
tions  of  graceful  imagery,  would  allow  them  to  be 
dovetailed  into  "Endymion"  with  little  break  in  con 
tinuity  and  almost  without  detection,  except  by  the 
expert. 

Poe  in  a  letter  to  Neal  said: — " '  Al  Aaraaf  has 
some  good  poetry  and  much  extravagance  which  I 
have  not  had  time  to  throw  away.  'Al  Aaraaf  is 
a  tale  of  another  world  —  the  star  discovered  by 
Tycho  Brahe,  which  appeared  and  disappeared  so 
suddenly  —  or  rather,  it  is  no  tale  at  all."  Such  ara 
besques  of  verse  are  characteristic  of  young  genius. 
"  Al  Aaraaf"  is  as  far  removed  from  the  cameo  direct 
ness  of  Poe's  later  lyrics  as  "Endymion"  is  from 
the  chaste,  classic  simplicity  of  "Hyperion." 

He  did  not  include  a  short  poem  which  was  pub 
lished  in  December,  1829,  in  "The  Yankee  and  Bos- 

(10) 


INTRODUCTION 

ton  Literary  Gazette,"  edited  by   John  Neal,  of  Port 
land,  Maine.     This  follows:  — 

THE   MAGICIAN 

MAGICIAN 

Thou  dark,  sea-stirring  storm, 
Whence  comest  thou  in  thy  might  — 
Nay  —  wait,  thou  dim  and  dreamy  form  — 
Storm  spirit,  I  call  thee — 'tis  mine  of  right — 
Arrest  thee  in  thy  troubled  flight. 

STORM    SPIRIT 

Thou  askest  me  whence  I  came  — 

I  came  o'er  the  sleeping  sea, 

It  roused  at  my  torrent  of  storm  and  flame, 

And  it  howled  aloud  in  its  agony, 

And  swelled  to  the  sky  —  that  sleeping  sea. 

Thou  askest  me  what  I  met  — 

A  ship  from  the  Indian  shore, 

A  tall  proud  ship  with  her  sails  all  set  — 

Far  down  in  the  sea  that  ship  I  bore, 

My  storm's  wild  rushing  wings  before. 

And  her  men  will  forever  lie, 

Below  the  unquiet  sea  ; 

And  tears  will  dim  full  many  an  eye 

Of  those  who  shall  widows  and  orphans  be, 

And  their  days  be  years — for  their  misery. 

A  boat  with  a  starving  crew  — 

For  hunger  they  howled  and  swore  ; 

While  the  blood  from  a  fellow's  veins  they  drew 

I  came  upon  them  with  rush  and  roar  — 

Far  under  the  waves  that  boat  I  bore. 

(ID 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

Two  ships  in  a  fearful  fight  — 

When  a  hundred  guns  did  flash 

I  came  upon  them — no  time  for  flight  — 

But  under  the  sea  their  timbers  crash 

And  over  their  guns  the  wild  waters  dash. 

A  wretch  on  a  single  plank  — 

And  I  tossed  him  on  the  shore  — 

A  night  and  a  day  of  the  sea  he'd  drank, 

But  the  wearied  wretch  to  the  land  I  bore  — 

And  now  he  walketh  the  land  once  more. 

MAGICIAN 

Storm  spirit — go  on  thy  path  — 
The  spirit  has  spread  his  wings  — 
And  comes  on  the  sea  with  a  rush  of  wrath, 
As  a  war  horse  when  he  springs  — 
And  over  the  earth  his  winds  he  flings  — 
And  over  the  earth  —  nor  stop  nor  stay  — 
The  winds  of  the  storm-king  go  out  on  their  way. 

(Signed)  P 

A  foot  note  states  that  the  punctuation  through 
out  is  the  author's  —  by  desire.  It  might  have  said 
lack  of  punctuation,  for  there  is  a  decided  dearth  of 
periods. 

Neal  prophesied  great  things  from  the  young  poet, 
a  part  of  whose  manuscript  he  had  seen;  he  cited 
a  number  of  characteristic  extracts,  and  said  of  their 
author: — "With  all  their  faults,  if  the  remainder  of 
'Al  Aaraaf '  and  '  Tamerlane '  are  as  good  as  the  body 
of  the  extracts  here  given  —  to  say  nothing  of  the  more 
extraordinary  parts,  he  will  deserve  to  stand  high-- 
very  high  —  in  the  estimation  of  the  shining  brother' 
hood." 

(12) 


•->MMHHBOMMBMMIMMHMMMMMMHMBHWMMNBBR£>-' 


INTRODUCTION 

Poe  was  duly  grateful  for  Neal's  encomium  which 
he  declared  were  the  very  first  words  of  encourage 
ment  that  he  ever  remembered  to  have  heard,  and 
he  took  his  Hannibal's  oath  that  though  he  had 
as  yet  not  written  the  beautiful  if  not  magnificent 
poem  which  Neal  expected  of  him,  he  was  able  to 
do  it  provided  time  was  given  him.  It  is  inter 
esting  to  note  that  in  the  same  number  of  "The 
Yankee"  appears  one  of  Whittier's  earliest  poems, 
not  known  apparently  to  any  of  his  later  editors  or 
biographers. 

West  Point  provided  Poe  with  a  living.  In  his 
studies  he  made  an  excellent  record  but  the  regu 
larity  of  discipline  was  galling  to  him.  It  was  recog 
nized  that  he  was  an  accomplished  French  scholar 
and  had  a  wonderful  aptitude  for  mathematics,  that 
he  was  a  devourer  of  books,  but  his  neglect  of  the 
ordinary  routine  of  roll-calls,  drills,  and  guard-duties 
frequently  subjected  him  to  arrest  and  punishment. 

He  remained  in  this  poet's  prison  only  from  July, 
1830,  until  March,  1831,  and  was  evidently  delibe 
rate  in  his  intention  of  getting  himself  court-martialed 
and  expelled.  Shortly  after  he  left  the  Academy  he 
published  his  third  volume  through  Elam  Bliss  of  New 
York.  It  was  " respectfully  dedicated"  to  the  U.  S. 
Corps  of  Cadets  and  consisted  of  an  introduction 
in  the  form  of  a  letter  and  eleven  poems,  occu 
pying  124  duodecimo  pages.  Professor  Harrison  calls 
attention  to  the  interesting  fact  that  Tennyson's 
"Poems  Chiefly  Lyrical"  was  issued  only  a  year 
earlier  and  he  says:  —  "Certainly  this  collection  con- 

(13) 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

tains  nothing  of  finer  edge  or  dreamier  grace   than 
Poe's  work,  which  was  contemporary  with  it." 

Four  days  after  the  decision  of  the  court-martial 
took  effect  Poe  wrote  a  letter  to  Colonel  Thayer,  the 
Superintendent  of  the  Academy,  begging  him  to  use 
his  influence  in  assisting  him  to  proceed  to  Paris  and 
secure  through  the  Marquis  de  La  Fayette  an  appoint 
ment  in  the  Polish  army.  What  happened  to  him 
during  the  next  two  years  and  a  half  is  almost  wholly 
a  matter  of  conjecture.  In  May,  1831,  he  wrote  to 
William  Gwynn,  editor  of  the  "Federal  Gazette  and 
Baltimore  Daily  Advertiser,"  whom  he  had  met  shortly 
before  his  appointment  to  West  Point,  and  begged  him 
to  help  him  secure  some  employment,  now  that  Mr. 
Allan  was  married  again  and  Richmond  was  no  longer 
his  home.  He  was  evidently  in  the  vicinity  of  Bal 
timore,  since  he  gave  as  an  excuse  for  not  calling, 
the  fact  that  he  was  housed  by  a  sprained  knee. 
A  not  wholly  authenticated  story  asserts  that  Poe 
spent  that  year  in  Baltimore  with  his  aunt,  Maria 
Clemm,  and  was  paying  ardent  court  to  a  young 
lady,  who  at  first  was  fascinated  by  the  handsome 
young  soldier  and  kept  up  an  ardent  correspondence 
with  him,  the  notes  being  exchanged  through  the  in 
termediary  of  his  cousin  Virginia,  then  a  girl  of  ten. 
He  is  said  to  have  offered  himself  to  her,  but  being- 
penniless  was  refused.  A  lover's  quarrel  caused  by 
jealousy  and  indulgence  in  wine  quenched  this  flame. 
She  refused  to  receive  his  letters  and  he  retaliated 
by  writing  satires  on  her  character.  This  brought 
about  a  personal  encounter  between  Poe  and  Mary's 

(H) 


INTRODUCTION 

uncle.  This  lady  long  years  afterward  visited  Poe 
and  his  dying  wife  at  Fordham.  Such  is  the  story. 

There  is  also  a  legend  to  the  effect  that  Poe  car 
ried  out  his  project  of  going  abroad,  that  he  went 
to  fight  for  the  independence  of  Greece,  that  he  wan 
dered  to  Russia,  that  he  fought  a  duel  in  France  and 
had  other  exciting  adventures.  This  legend  arose  in 
Poe's  own  time  and  he  did  not  deny  it;  probably,  with 
his  vivid  imagination  and  his  love  of  mystery,  he 
liked  to  have  it  abroad. 

In  the  summer  of  1833,  "The  Baltimore  Visitor" 
offered  prizes  of  $100  for  the  best  short  story  and  of 
$50  for  the  best  poem.  Poe  submitted  six  tales  and 
the  prize  was  awarded  to  the  "MS.  Found  in  a  Bot 
tle,"  though  "A  Descent  Into  the  Maelstrom"  was 
a  close  second.  His  poem,  "The  Coliseum"  would 
have  secured  the  prize  for  the  verse  competition  had 
it  not  seemed  inexpedient  to  award  both  to  one  and 
the  same  person.  One  of  the  judges  who  saw  Poe 
at  the  time,  thus  described  him: — "He  was,  if  any 
thing,  below  the  middle  size,  and  yet  could  not  be 
described  as  a  small  man.  His  figure  was  remark 
ably  good,  and  he  carried  himself  erect  and  well,  as 
one  who  had  been  trained  to  it.  He  was  dressed 
in  black,  and  his  frock  coat  was  buttoned  to  the 
throat,  where  it  met  the  black  stock,  then  almost 
universally  worn.  Not  a  particle  of  white  was  worn. 
Coat,  hat,  boots  and  gloves  had  very  evidently  seen 
their  best  days,  but  so  far  as  mending  and  brushing 
go,  everything  had  been  done,  apparently,  to  make 
them  presentable.  On  most  men  his  clothes  would 


(15) 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

have  looked  shabby  and  seedy,  but  there  was  some 
thing  about  this  man  that  prevented  one  from  criti 
cising  his  garments.  .  .  .  Gentleman  was  writ 
ten  all  over  him.  His  manner  was  easy  and  quiet 
and  although  he  came  to  return  thanks  for  what  he 
regarded  as  deserving  them,  there  was  nothing  obse 
quious  in  what  he  said  or  did." 

About  this  time  John  P.  Kennedy,  who  took  an 
interest  in  the  young  writer,  invited  him  to  dinner, 
and  in  reply  received  this  significant  note: — "Your 
invitation  to  dinner  has  wounded  me  to  the  quick. 
I  cannot  come  for  reasons  of  the  most  humiliating 
nature  —  my  personal  appearance.  You  may  imagine 
my  mortification  in  making  this  disclosure  to  you, 
but  it  is  necessary."  Kennedy  gave  him  clothing 
and  other  comfort  and,  to  use  his  own  words, 
"brought  him  up  from  the  very  verge  of  despair." 

The  next  March,  John  Allan  died,  leaving  three 
children  by  his  second  wife.  But  of  his  large  for 
tune —  which  Poe  states  to  have  been  $750,000  —  not 
a  cent  was  bequeathed  to  the  young  man  for  whose 
early  training  he  was  responsible.  He  never  forgave 
him. 

Poe  wrote  Kennedy,  the  following  November,  that 
he  was  wholly  penniless  and  begged  him  to  arrange, 
if  possible,  for  Carey  &  Lea  to  advance  a  small  sum  in 
consideration  of  the  "Tales  of  the  Arabesque"  which 
he  had  submitted  to  that  firm  of  Philadelphia  pub 
lishers,  after  his  prize  story  had  created  such  a  sen 
sation.  On  the  strength  of  it  he  had  apparently 
married  his  cousin,  Virginia  Clemm,  who  was  only 


(16) 


INTRODUCTION 

fourteen,  though  on  the  marriage  bond,  still  pre 
served,  her  age  is  stated  "of  the  full  age  of  twenty- 
one  years."  Misstating  ages  seems  to  have  been  one 
of  the  Poe  failings. 

Kennedy  performed  the  good  office  which  Poe 
requested.  Carey  &  Lea  agreed  to  publish  the  book 
and  suggested  that  they  be  permitted  to  offer  some 
of  the  tales  to  various  magazines.  This  was  done, 
and  Poe  received  small  sums  from  this  source.  Ken 
nedy  also  secured  for  Poe  a  chance  to  do  literary 
work  for  T.  W.  White,  who  had  just  established 
"The  Southern  Literary  Messenger"  at  Richmond. 
His  work  was  so  satisfactory  that  he  was  asked  to 
become  its  assistant  editor.  His  salary  was  at  first 
at  the  rate  of  $10  a  week,  afterwards  increased  to 
$800  a  year  with  the  promise  of  still  more.  After 
his  removal  to  Richmond  he  seems  to  have  a  period 
of  great  depression  of  spirits.  He  wrote  Kennedy  a 
letter  full  of  despair  and  hinting  at  the  possibility  of 
committing  suicide.  "I  am  wretched"  he  wrote, 
"and  know  not  why.  Console  me  —  for  you  can. 
But  let  it  be  quickly  —  or  it  will  be  too  late.  Write 
me  immediately.  Convince  me  that  it  is  worth  one's 
while,  that  it  is  at  all  necessary  to  live,  and  you 
will  prove  yourself  indeed  my  friend.  Persuade  me 
to  do  what  is  right." 

Although  he  was  working  indefatigably  for  the 
"Messenger,"  one  can  see  from  contemporary  letters 
that  his  enemy,  Strong  Drink,  was  again  getting  the 
better  of  him.  White  tells  him  most  affectionately 
to  beware  of  the  bottle.  "No  man  is  safe  "  he  says, 


(17) 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

" who  drinks  before  breakfast."  The  office  of  "The 
Messenger"  was  near  his  foster-father's  old  tobacco 
factory,  a  most  trying  juxtaposition.  Poe  and  his 
young  wife,  with  Mrs.  Clemm,  after  lodging  for  a 
while  decided  to  keep  house  and  take  boarders,  bor 
rowing  the  money  to  furnish  their  modest  establish 
ment. 

Kennedy  again  come  to  his  aid  and  gave  him  also 
good  advice  about  cheerfulness,  early  rising,  working 
methodically  and  frequenting  the  best  company  only." 
"Be  rigidly  temperate  both  in  body  and  mind"  he 
wrote  "and  I  will  ensure  you  at  a  moderate  premium 
all  the  success  and  comfort  you  covet." 

This  was  indeed  the  crisis  of  Poe's  life.  He  was 
not  able  to  meet  it.  White  dismissed  him  in  De 
cember,  1836.  During  his  editorship  the  circulation 
had  increased  more  than  seven-fold.  He  had  con 
tributed  an  extraordinary  number  of  stories,  poems 
and  criticisms,  many  of  which  are  regarded  as  his 
masterpieces.  And  yet,  owing  to  his  unfortunate  dis 
ease,  for  it  is  the  general  consensus  of  expert  opinion 
that  his  susceptibility  to  the  effect  of  alcohol  was 
due  to  a  lesion  of  the  brain,  he  was  unable  to  retain 
a  position  which  he  had  filled  so  admirably  and  which 
promised  such  brilliant  rewards. 

He  seems  to  have  gone  first  to  New  York,  where 
he  wrote  "The  Narrative  of  Arthur  Gordon  Pym," 
a  Poesque,  De  Foesque  bit  of  imaginative  realism. 
His  little  family  found  shelter  in  a  "wretched  wooden 
shanty"  on  Carmine  Street  —  a  suggestive  name. 
One  of  the  boarders  whom  they  took  to  help  eke 

(18) 


INTRODUCTION 

out  their  meager  income,  declares  that  he  never, 
during  eight  months  or  more,  saw  Poe  the  least  affected 
with  liquor  or  descend  to  any  known  vice.  He 
described  the  girl-wife  as  "of  matchless  beauty  and 
loveliness."  "Her  eyes"  he  said  "could  match  that 
of  any  houri,  and  her  face  defy  the  genius  of  a  Canova 
to  imitate;  a  temper  and  disposition  of  surpassing 
sweetness.  She  had  rare  musical  powers  and  a  beauti 
ful  voice." 

About  this  time  William  E.  Burton,  a  Philadelphia 
actor  and  theatrical  manager,  was  also  the  proprie 
tor  of  the  "Gentleman's  Magazine."  Poe  went  to 
Philadelphia  in  May,  1838,  and  while  there  wrote 
a  letter  to  Burton  offering  his  services  as  editor. 
Burton  was  pleased  and  promised  him  $10  a  week 
for  the  rest  of  the  year,  adding  in  his  reply:  — 
"Should  we  remain  together,  which  I  see  no  reason 
to  negative,  your  proposition  shall  be  in  force 
for  1840.  A  month's  notice  to  be  given  on  either 
side  previous  to  a  separation.  Two  hours  a  day, 
except  occasionally,  will,  I  believe,  be  sufficient  for 
all  required,  except  in  the  production  of  any  article 
of  your  own.  At  all  events,  you  could  easily  find 
time  for  any  other  light  avocation."  He  adds: 
"I  shall  dine  at  home  to-day.  If  you  will  cut  your 
mutton  with  me,  good.  If  not,  write  or  see  me  at 
your  leisure." 

The  result  was  that  the  Poes  removed  to  Phila 
delphia,  which  was  their  home  for  six  years.  They 
lived  in  a  small  brick  tenement  on  North  Seventh 
Street,  cheaply  but  tastefully  furnished,  and  provided 

(19) 


EDGAR    ALLAN     POE 

with  ample  space  for  a  garden.  His  duties  consisted 
in  "  proof-reading,  alteration  and  preparation  of  man 
uscripts,  with  compilation  of  articles,  such  as  plate 
articles,  field  sports,  etc."  This,  together  with  his 
own  contributions,  kept  him  so  busy  that  he  con 
fessed  himself  unable  to  find  the  time  for  preparing 
a  criticism  of  Washington  Irving  for  the  first  num 
ber  of  the  "Baltimore  American  Museum,"  though  in 
his  letter  to  its  editor  he  said:  —  "It  is  a  theme  upon 
which  I  should  very  much  like  to  write,  for  there  is  a 
vast  deal  to  be  said  upon  it.  Irving  is  much  overrated, 
and  a  nice  distinction  might  be  drawn  between  his 
just  and  his  surreptitious  and  adventitious  reputation  — 
between  what  is  due  to  the  pioneer  solely  and  what 
to  the  writer.  The  merit,  too,  of  his  tame  propriety 
and  faultlessness  of  style  should  be  candidly  weighed." 
He  added  the  pleasant  news  that  he  had  got  nearly 
out  of  his  late  embarrassments. 

One  of  the  Foes'  Philadelphia  friends  bears  wit 
ness  to  the  idyllic  life  which  they  enjoyed  in  their 
flower-adorned  home.  Of  his  wife,  even  then  be 
ginning  to  fade  away,  this  writer  says: — "She  was 
an  exquisite  picture  of  patient  loveliness,  always 
wearing  upon  her  beautiful  countenance  the  smile 
of  resignation,  and  the  warm,  ever-cheerful  look  with 
which  she  ever  greeted  her  friends."  Even  Rufus 
W.  Griswold  who  met  him  first  at  this  time  bears 
witness  to  Poe's  gentlemanly  qualities: — "He  was 
usually  dressed  with  simplicity  and  elegance,"  he 
says,  "and  when  once  he  sent  for  me  to  visit  him 
during  a  period  of  illness  caused  by  protracted  and 


(20) 


INTRODUCTION 

anxious  watching  at  the  side  of  his  sick  wife,  I  was 
impressed  by  the  singular  neatness  and  the  air  of 
refinement  in  his  home."  C.  W.  Alexander,  the  pub 
lisher  of  "The  Gentleman's  Magagine,"  spoke  of  the 
"uniform  gentleness  of  disposition  and  kindness  of 
heart  which  distinguished  him." 

Among  the  avocations  which  Poe  undertook,  dur 
ing  his  first  year  in  Philadelphia,  was  the  prepara 
tion  of  "The  Conchologist's  First  Book."  This 
work,  for  which  the  title-page  makes  Poe  solely  re 
sponsible,  was  in  reality  a  revival  of  an  expensive 
book  published  by  a  Professor  Wyatt  through  the 
Harpers.  It  had  not  been  successful  and  Poe's  name 
was  "put  to  it"  as  best  known  and  most  likely  to 
aid  its  circulation.  Professor  Harrison,  Poe's  best 
and  most  lenient  biographer  says: — "Poe's  course 
in  the  composition  of  this  work  up  to  page  twenty 
was  undoubtedly  irregular  and  reprehensible  in  not 
calling  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  first  twenty 
pages  of  the  work,  including  preface,  introduction 
and  explanation  of  the  shells,  were  a  paraphrase  of 
Captain  Thomas  Brown's  'Conchologist's  Text-Book' 
published  in  Glasgow  in  1837,  —  whence  also  Poe's 
plates  were  drawn.  .  .  .  Wyatt  engaged  the 
poet  to  popularize  the  work  and  issue  an  edition 
under  his  own  (Poe's)  name.  Wyatt  sold  the  book 
himself  and  is,  jointly  with  Poe,  responsible  for  it 
and  its  exhibition  of  moral  obliquity." 

This  year,  1859,  was  also  signalized  by  the  pub 
lication  of  the  first  two  volume  edition  of  the  "Tales 
of  the  Grotesque  and  Arabesque "  through  Lea  & 


(21) 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

Blanchard  of  Philadelphia.  Of  these  Professor  Harri 
son  says: — 

"At  thirty  years  of  age,  before  George  Eliot  or 
Emerson,  or,  one  might  say,  Walter  Scott,  had  be 
gun  to  write,  Poe  had  produced  most  of  the  prose 
and  much  of  the  verse  upon  which  his  enduring 
fame  will  rest.  All  the  Poe  types  reveal  themselves 
in  these  volumes  and  stand  befere  us  in  statuesque 
perfection.  .  .,  .  What  Poe  did  in  the  remaining 
decade  of  his  life  was  to  refine,  polish,  amplify  this 
already  ample  achievement,  and  to  add  those  inimit 
able  'jingle'  poems  which  Emerson,  having  no  sense 
of  rhythm  himself,  strove  vainly  to  sneer  out  of  ex 
istence  with  an  epithet.  To  have  accomplished  all 
this  in  three  decades,  handicapped  as  Poe  was  by 
disease,  illness,  poverty,  want,  and  persecution,  was 
to  achieve  a  high  and  noble  distinction  that  places 
him  even  above  the  young  immortals,  Keats  and 
Andre  Chenier,  who  possessed  solely  the  gift  of  song." 

Poe  soon  quarreled  with  Burton.  Passages  from 
a  letter  which  he  wrote  Burton  in  June  seem  to  ex 
plain  the  cause:  Poe  had  the  ambition  to  establish 
a  magazine  of  his  own.  His  correspondence  all  his 
life  long  is  full  of  plans  for  carrying  out  such  a 
scheme.  Burton  suspected  him,  apparently,  of  un 
derhanded  conduct  in  securing  a  possible  list  of  sub 
scribers  from  Burton's  list.  Poe  wrote  that  Burton's 
attempts  to  bully  him  excited  only  his  mirth,  and  ad 
vised  him  to  preserve  the  dignity  of  a  gentleman 
when  he  addressed  him  again.  He  said:  — 

"As  usual,  you  have  wrought  yourself  into  a  pas- 

(22) 


INTRODUCTION 

sion  with  me  on  account  of  some  imaginary  wrong;  for 
no  real  injury,  or  attempt  at  injury,  have  you  ever 
received  at  my  hands.  As  I  live,  I  am  utterly  unable 
to  say  why  you  are  angry,  or  what  true  grounds  of 
complaint  you  have  against  me.  You  are  a  man  of 
impulses;  have  made  yourself,  in  consequence,  some 
enemies;  have  been  in  many  respects  ill-treated  by 
those  whom  you  had  looked  upon  as  friends  —  and 
these  things  have  rendered  you  suspicious.  You 
once  wrote  in  your  magazine  a  sharp  critique  upon 
a  book  of  mine  —  a  very  silly  book  —  Pym.  Had  I 
written  a  similar  criticism  upon  a  book  of  yours,  you 
feel  that  you  would  have  been  my  enemy  for  life, 
and  you  therefore  imagine  in  my  bosom  a  latent  hos 
tility  towards  yourself.  This  has  been  a  mainspring 
in  your  whole  conduct  towards  me  since  our  first 
acquaintance.  It  has  acted  to  prevent  all  cordiality. 
"In  a  general  view  of  human  nature  your  idea  is  just 
—  but  you  will  find  yourself  puzzled  in  judging  me  by 
ordinary  motives.  Your  criticism  was  essentially  cor 
rect,  and  therefore,  although  severe,  it  did  not  oc 
casion  in  me  one  solitary  emotion  either  of  anger  or 
dislike.  But  even  while  I  write  these  words,  I  am 
sure  you  will  not  believe  them.  Did  I  not  think 
you,  in  spite  of  the  exceeding  littleness  of  some  of 
your  hurried  actions,  a  man  of  many  honorable  im 
pulses,  I  would  not  now  take  the  trouble  to  send 
you  this  letter.  I  cannot  permit  myself  to  suppose 
that  you  would  say  to  me  in  cool  blood  what  you 
said  in  your  letter  of  yesterday.  You  are  of  course, 
only  mistaken  in  asserting  that  I  owe  you  a  hundred 

(23) 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

dollars,  and  you  will  rectify  the  mistake  at  once 
when  you  come  to  look  at  your  accounts." 

He  goes  on  to  detail  what  he  had  done  for  the 
magazine,  proving  that  he  had  contributed  not  less 
than  ten  pages  a  month  during  the  year.  His  letter 
ends  with  these  words:  — 

"Upon  the  whole  I  am  not  willing  to  admit 
that  you  have  greatly  overpaid  me.  That  I  did  not 
do  four  times  as  much  as  I  did  for  the  magazine 
was  your  own  fault.  At  first  I  wrote  long  articles 
which  you  deemed  inadmissible,  and  never  did  I 
suggest  any  to  which  you  had  not  some  immediate 
and  decided  objection.  Of  course  I  grew  discour 
aged,  and  could  feel  no  interest  in  the  journal. 

"  I  am  at  loss  to  know  why  you  call  me  selfish.  If 
you  mean  that  I  borrowed  money  of  you  —  you  know 
that  you  offered  it,  and  you  know  that  I  am  poor.  In 
what  instance  has  anyone  ever  found  me  selfish  ?  Was 
there  selfishness  in  the  affront  which  I  offered  Ben 
jamin  (whom  I  respect,  and  who  spoke  well  of  me), 
because  I  deemed  it  a  duty  not  to  receive  commen 
dation  at  your  expense  ?  .  .  Place  yourself  in  my 
situation  and  see  whether  you  would  not  have  acted 
as  I  have  done.  You  first  'enforced,'  as  you  say,  a 
reduction  of  salary;  giving  me  to  understand  thereby 
that  you  thought  of  parting  company.  You  next 
spoke  disrespectfully  of  me  behind  my  back  —  this 
as  an  habitual  thing  —  to  those  whom  you  supposed 
your  friends,  and  who  punctually  retailed  to  me,  as 
a  matter  of  course,  every  ill-natured  word  which  you 
uttered.  Lastly  you  advertised  your  magazine  for 


(24) 


INTRODUCTION 

sale  without  saying  a  word  to  me  about  it.  I  felt  no 
anger  at  what  you  did  —  none  in  the  world.  Had 
I  not  firmly  believed  it  your  design  to  give  up  your 
journal,  with  a  view  of  attending  to  the  theatre,  1 
should  never  have  dreamed  of  attempting  one  of  my 
own.  The  opportunity  of  doing  something  for  my 
self  seemed  a  good  one  —  (and  I  was  about  to  be 
thrown  out  of  business) — and  I  embraced  it.  Now  I 
ask  you  as  a  man  of  honor  and  as  a  man  of  sense  — 
what  is  there  wrong  in  all  this?  What  have  I  done 
at  which  you  have  any  right  to  take  offense?" 

There  seems  to  have  been  no  claim  that  Poe 
neglected  his  duties  as  Burton's  associate  editor. 
During  his  years  in  Philadelphia  he  was  habitually 
temperate.  His  mother-in-law  testified  that  for  years 
he  did  not  taste  even  a  glass  of  wine.  Two  years 
later  he  wrote  Dr.  J.  E.  Snodgrass  of  Baltimore,  com 
plaining  bitterly  of  Burton's  treatment  of  him  and 
threatening  to  sue  him  for  malicious  libel,  though 
he  was  afraid  that  Burton  would  bring  a  counter 
suit  since  he  had  "  always  told  him  to  his  face,  and 
everybody  else,  that  he  looked  upon  him  as  a  black 
guard  and  a  villain."  Speaking  of  his  own  habits 
he  said:  — 

"  You  will  never  be  brought  to  believe  that  1 
could  write  what  I  daily  write,  as  I  write  it,  were  I  as 
this  villain  would  induce  those  who  know  me  not, 
to  believe.  In  fine,  I  pledge  you,  before  God,  the 
solemn  word  of  a  gentleman,  that  I  am  temperate 
even  to  rigor.  From  the  hour  in  which  I  first  saw 
this  basest  of  calumniators  to  the  hour  in  which 


(25) 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

I  retired  from  his  office  in  uncontrollable  disgust 
at  his  chicanery,  arrogance,  ignorance  and  brutality, 
nothing  stronger  than  water  ever  passed  my  lips. 

"It  is,  however,  due  to  candor  that  I  inform  you 
upon  what  foundations  he  has  erected  his  slanders. 
At  no  period  of  my  life  was  I  ever  what  men  call 
intemperate.  I  never  was  in  the  habit  of  intoxica 
tion.  I  never  drank  drams,  etc.  But,  for  a  period, 
while  I  resided  in  Richmond  and  edited  the  'Mes 
senger,'  1  certainly  did  give  way,  at  long  intervals, 
to  the  temptation  held  out  on  all  sides  by  the  spirit 
of  Southern  conviviality.  My  sensitive  temperament 
could  not  stand  an  excitement  which  was  an  every 
day  matter  to  my  companions.  In  short,  it  some 
times  happened  that  I  was  completely  intoxicated. 
For  some  days  after  each  excess  I  was  invariably 
confined  to  bed.  But  it  is  now  quite  four  years 
since  1  have  abandoned  every  kind  of  alcoholic 
drink  —  four  years,  with  the  exception  of  a  single 
deviation,  which  occurred  shortly  after  my  leaving 
Burton,  and  when  I  was  induced  to  the  occasional 
use  of  cider,  with  the  hope  of  relieving  a  nervous 
attack.  ...  I  have  now  only  to  repeat  to  you, 
in  general,  my  solemn  assurance  that  my  habits  are 
as  far  removed  from  intemperance  as  the  day  from 
the  night.  My  sole  drink  is  water." 

In  1841,  George  R.  Graham  bought  Burton's  month 
ly  and  combined  it  with  his  own  "Casket,"  under  the 
title  of  "Graham's  Magazine."  Poe,  whose  scheme 
of  a  personal  journal  to  be  called  "The  Penn  Month 
ly"  had  not  materialized,  was  engaged  as  its  editor 


INTRODUCTION 

and  its  circulation  almost  immediately  increased  from 
5,000  to  57,000,  and  it  enlisted  all  of  the  best  writers 
of  the  time.  Poe  himself  contributed  to  it  some  of 
his  finest  pieces  in  prose  and  verse,  though  many  of 
them  were  redactions  of  what  had  appeared  else 
where.  He  was  editor  until  April,  1843.  It  is 
stated  that  he  left  the  magazine  in  a  fit  of  pique 
because,  having  been  absent  for  a  short  time,  owing 
to  illness  or  some  other  cause,  when  he  returned  he 
found  Rufus  W.  Griswold  acting  as  his  substitute. 
Graham  himself  denied  afterwards  that  he  had  dis 
charged  him.  He  simply  walked  out  at  seeing  the 
interloper  and  could  not  be  persuaded  to  enter  the 
office  again.  Nevertheless,  he  still  continued  to  write 
for  "Graham's,"  his  contributions  amounting  to  not 
less  than  fifty  all  told.  His  written  excuse  for  leav 
ing  was  as  follows: — "My  reason  for  resigning 
was  disgust  with  the  namby-pamby  character  of  the 
magazine  —  a  character  which  it  was  impossible  to 
eradicate.  I  allude  to  the  contemptible  pictures, 
fashion  plates,  music  and  love  tales.  The  salary, 
moreover,  did  not  pay  me  for  the  labour  which  I 
was  forced  to  bestow." 

He  immediately  began  to  lay  plans  again  for  his 
own  magazine,  and  this  time  it  was  to  be  called 
"The  Stylus."  At  the  suggestion  of  his  friend  F. 
W.  Thomas,  he  also  went  to  Washington  with  the 
hope  of  securing  some  small  government  position. 
But  here  once  more  he  fell  under  the  old  temptation. 
He  was  in  despair;  his  beloved  wife  had  ruptured  a 
blood  vessel  and  was  hopelessly  ill. 

(27) 


6 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

"At  each  accession  of  the  disorder  "  he  confessed  in 
a  letter  written  six  years  later,  "I  loved  her  more  dear 
ly  and  clung  to  her  life  with  more  desperate  pertinacity. 
But  I  am  constitutionally  sensitive — nervous  in  a 
very  unusual  degree.  I  became  insane  with  long  in 
tervals  of  horrible  sanity.  During  these  fits  [of  ab 
solute  unconsciousness,  I  drank  —  God  only  knows 
how  often  or  how  much.  As  a  matter  of  course  my 
enemies  referred  the  insanity  to  the  drink,  rather 
than  the  drink  to  the  insanity." 

To  Mrs.  Whitman  he  wrote: — "I  have  abso 
lutely  no  pleasure  in  the  stimulants  in  which  I  some 
times  so  madly  indulge.  It  has  not  been  in  the 
pursuit  of  pleasure  that  I  have  imperiled  life  and 
reputation  and  reason.  It  has  been  in  the  desperate 
attempt  to  escape  from  torturing  memories." 

In  April,  1844,  Poe  took  his  wife  and  her  mother 
to  New  York  for  the  second  time.  Here  he  still 
cherished  his  hope  of  publishing  "The  Stylus"  and 
he  secured  promises  of  contributors  and  advance  sub 
scribers.  He  almost  persuaded  Dr.  T.  H.  Chivers  to 
join  him  in  this  quixotic  enterprise.  Chivers  was  the 
Southern  poet  who  afterwards  claimed  to  have  first 
evolved  the  peculiar  rhythm  characteristic  of  "The 
Raven."  Chivers  had  a  little  fortune  and  was  not  averse 
to  expending  it  in  a  venture  with  a  man  who  stood 
for  him  as  the  very  incarnation  of  genius.  He  was  not 
blind  to  his  faults,  however,  and  in  commenting  on  his 
prospectus  cautioned  him  not  to  be  so  fierce  in  his 
criticisms.  In  a  letter  written  in  1840  he  said:  —  "In 
the  Paradise  of  Literature  I  do  not  know  one  better 


(28) 


INTRODUCTION 

calculated  than  yourself  to  prune  the  young  scions  of 
their  exuberant  thoughts.  In  some  instances,  let  me 
remark,  you  seem  to  me  to  lay  aside  the  pruning- 
knife  for  the  tomahawk,  and  not  only  to  lop  off  the 
redundant  limbs,  but  absolutely  to  eradicate  the  whole 
tree." 

Poe  took  himself  seriously  as  a  critic  and,  as  he 
had  formulated  a  certain  canon  of  comparison,  he  was 
often  exceedingly  severe,  though  he  was  also  just. 
His  tendency  to  use  the  bludgeon  naturally  incensed 
the  petty  authors  of  the  day,  who  were  as  vulner 
able  in  their  conceit  as  they  were  in  their  produc 
tions.  Poe  could  not  fail  to  raise  about  his  head  a 
swarm  of  venomous  enemies. 

When  he  reached  New  York  with  his  sick  wife, 
after  an  all  day's  journey,  he  found  a  cheap  board 
ing-house  near  Cedar  Street  on  the  West  Side.  In 
his  letter  to  Mfe.  ;-Clemm  he  expressed  himself  as 
greatly  delighted  with  the  board.  He  writes  in 
homely  enthusiasm  of  his  first  supper  and  break 
fast  : — "The  nicest  tea  you  ever  drank,  strong  and 
hot,  the  tea-cakes  (elegant),  a  great  dish  (two  dishes) 
of  elegant  ham  and  two  of  cold  veal,  piled  up  like 
a  mountain,  and  large  slices;  and  everything  in  the 
greatest  profusion."  He  declared  that  he  and  "Sis" 
were  "in  excellent  spirits"  and  yet,  poor  things,  he 
had  only  four  dollars  and  a  half  left. 

He  found  an  engagement  as  "mechanical  para- 
graphist"  on  N.  P.  Willis's  "Evening  Mirror"  and  by 
September  writes  that  he  is  living  about  five  miles  out 
of  the  city,  Virginia's  health  being  extremely  precarious. 


(29) 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

Willis  wrote  of  his  association  with  him  in  the  highest 
terms  of  appreciation,  pitying  him  for  being  obliged 
to  occupy  a  subordinate  position,  praising  his  wil 
lingness  to  carry  out  any  suggestion.  "He  was  in 
variably  punctual  and  industrious"  he  says.  "With 
his  pale,  beautiful  and  intellectual  face,  as  a  reminder 
of  what  genius  was  in  him,  it  was  impossible,  of 
course,  not  to  treat  him  always  with  deferential 
courtesy,  and  to  our  occasional  request  that  he  would 
not  probe  too  deep  in  a  criticism,  or  that  he  would 
erase  a  passage  coloured  too  highly  with  his  resent 
ment  against  society  and  mankind,  he  readily  and 
courteously  assented — far  more  yielding  than  most 
men,  we  thought,  on  points  so  excusably  sensitive. 
With  a  prospect  of  taking  the  lead  in  another  peri 
odical,  he  at  last  voluntarily  gave  up  his  employ 
ment  with  us,  and,  through  all  this  considerable  period, 
we  had  seen  but  one  presentment  of  the  man  —  a 
quiet,  patient,  industrious  and  most  gentlemanly  per 
son,  commanding  the  utmost  respect  and  good  feel 
ing  by  his  unvarying  deportment  and  ability." 

He  published  in  "The  Sun"  his  famous  "Bal 
loon  Hoax"  which  like  his  "  Pym  "  was  accepted  as 
genuine.  Years  before  "The  Sun"  had  published  a 
"Moon  Hoax"  which  Poe  claimed  was  suggested 
by  his  story  "Hans  Pfaall's  Journey  to  the  Moon." 
.  .  .  Professor  Harrison  says  "'The  Balloon  Hoax' 
produced  a  prodigious  sensation,  and  once  more  Poe 
rode  Triton-like,  on  the  crest  of  a  wave  of  popularity, 
blowing  his  horn  and  scattering  the  spray  of  his 
laughter  in  the  faces  of  the  gullible."  During  that 

(30) 


INTRODUCTION 

same  year,  1844,  besides  writing  a  number  of  tren 
chant  reviews  and  several  stories  he  made  the 
acquaintance  of  James  Russell  Lowell,  which  at  first 
promised  to  become  a  warm  friendship  but  later  de 
veloped  into  mutual  coldness.  In  one  of  his  letters  to 
Lowell  he  names  as  his  best  poems,  though  criticising 
them  as  "  hurried  and  unconsidered,"  "  The  Sleeper," 
"The  Conqueror  Worm,"  "The  Haunted  Palace," 
"Lenore,"  "Dreamland,"  and  "The  Coliseum";  and 
as  his  best  tales,  "Ligeia,"  "The  Gold-Bug,"  "The 
Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue,"  "The  Fall  of  the 
House  of  Usher,"  "The  Tell-Tale  Heart,"  "The 
Black  Cat,"  "  William  Wilson  "  and  "  A  Descent  Into 
the  Maelstrom." 

In  1845,  Charles  F.  Briggs  and  John  Bisco  estab 
lished  "The  Broadway  Magazine"  and,  in  November, 
Poe  became  associated  with  it.  Lowell  introduced 
Poe  to  Briggs  who  at  first  took  kindly  to  him,  though 
he  confessed  to  grave  prejudice  against  him,  due 
to  Griswold's  report.  Briggs  took  umbrage  at  Poe's 
attack  on  Longfellow  and  soon  began  to  undervalue 
his  criticisms,  charging  that  they  were  "so  verbal  and 
so  purely  selfish  that  he  could  no  longer  have  any 
sympathy  with  him."  He  also  charged  him  with 
drunkenness.  The  weekly  was  temporarily  sus 
pended,  then  it  was  resumed  with  Poe  in  Briggs's 
place  as  editor  and  finally,  in  October,  he  bought  Bis- 
co's  interest  in  it  for  the  munificent  sum  of  $50 ! 
He  tried  to  borrow  the  money  of  both  Griswold  and 
Kennedy.  He  saw  a  fortune  in  the  enterprise.  This 
was  a  somewhat  different  proposition  from  the  "  large 

(31) 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

octavo  of  128  pages  printed  in  bold  type,  single 
column,  on  the  finest  paper"  and  "circulating  20,000 
copies  at  $5.00,  with  a  profit  of  $70,000"  which  Poe 
had  outlined.  Of  course  even  with  Poe's  popularity  it 
was  foredoomed  to  fail.  And  yet  Poe  had  just  pub 
lished  "The  Raven"  concerning  which  Briggs  wrote 
to  Lowell  "  Everybody  has  been  raven-mad  about 
his  last  poem."  Willis  declared  that  in  his  opinion 
it  was  the  most  effective  single  example  of  "fugitive 
poetry"  ever  published  in  this  country  and  unsur 
passed  in  English  poetry  for  subtle  conception,  mas 
terly  ingenuity  of  versification  and  consistent  sustaining 
of  imaginative  lift."  It  flew  across  the  Atlantic  and 
was  there  enthusiastically  received.  It  is  said  that  Poe 
took  it  in  its  earliest  form  to  Graham,  telling  him  that  his 
wife  and  Mrs.  Clemm  were  starving  and  that  he  was 
in  pressing  need  of  money.  Several  who  read  it 
then  and  there  condemned  the  poem  but  contributed 
as  a  charity  the  fifteen  dollars  which  he  received  for  it. 
From  the  self-sufficiency  of  Poe's  literary  criticisms 
it  was  only  a  step  to  his  wild  delusion  that  most  of 
his  contemporaries  plagiarized  from  him.  He  thus 
involved  himself  in  a  controversy  in  which  the 
tables  were  turned.  He  also  made  sport  of  that 
sacred  movement,  Boston  transcendentalism,  and  won 
still  more  enemies.  Nor  did  he  better  himself  by 
the  fiasco  that  he  made  in  Boston,  in  October,  when, 
instead  of  delivering  a  lecture  before  the  Lyceum  as 
he  had  been  engaged  to  do,  he  disappointed  his 
audience  by  reading  "Al  Aaraaf"  and  "The  Raven." 
This  year  was  made  notable  by  the  publication  of  a 


(32) 


INTRODUCTION 

revised  edition  of  his  poems  with  "The  Raven"  as 
the  title-piece.  The  "Broadway  Journal,"  in  spite 
of  all  Poe's  efforts,  died.  He  appealed  in  vain  for 
pecuniary  assistance.  He  was  obliged  to  relinquish 
the  enterprise  which  seemed  to  promise  so  well,  and 
retire  from  the  city  where  he  had  made  a  reputation 
as  a  brilliant  talker  and  a  world-poet.  He  found  oc 
cupation  in  writing  for  "Godey's  Lady's  Book  "  a  series 
of  critical  articles  on  his  contemporaries.  These  were 
entitled  "  The  Literati  "  and  they  attracted  wide  at 
tention.  One  of  them  relating  to  Thomas  Dunn 
English  brought  a  libelous  response.  Poe  sued  Eng 
lish  and  was  awarded  $225.  This  sum  it  is  sup 
posed  he  spent  in  furnishing  the  little  cottage  at 
Fordham.  This  house,  which  was  shingled  and  stood 
with  its  gable  end  toward  the  street,  had  only  three 
rooms,  but  it  was  "  pleasantly  situated  on  a  little  eleva 
tion  in  a  large  open  space,  with  cherry  trees  about  it." 
Here,  Poe,  submerged  in  the  deepest  poverty  and 
heart-breaking  misery,  watched  his  young  wife's  pass 
ing  life.  Here  he  proposed  and  probably  began  to 
extend  the  plan  of  his  Literati  into  "a  book  on  Ameri 
can  letters  generally."  But  it  was  not  completed 
and  the  MS.  was  afterwards  lost  while  in  Griswold's 
hands.  A  report  of  the  sad  condition  of  the  Poes 
was  circulated  in  the  press  and  an  attempt  was  made 
to  aid  them.  Poe  was  mortified  and  tried  to  make 
the  best  of  his  situation.  Mrs.  Gove-Nichols 
visited  them  and  left  a  pathetic  picture  of  the  doomed 
family: — It  was  Autumn.  "There  was  no  clothing 
on  the  bed,  which  was  only  straw,  but  a  snow- 


(33) 


EDGAR    ALLAN     POE 

white  counterpane  and  sheets.  The  weather  was  cold, 
and  the  sick  lady  had  the  dreadful  chills  that  accom 
pany  the  hectic  fever  of  consumption.  She  lay  on 
the  straw  bed,  wrapped  in  her  husband's  great-coat, 
with  a  large  tortoise-shell  cat  in  her  bosom.  The 
wonderful  cat  seemed  conscious  of  her  great  useful 
ness.  The  coat  and  the  cat  were  the  sufferer's  only 
means  of  warmth;  except  as  her  husband  held  her 
hands,  and  her  mother  her  feet." 

Virginia  died  on  the  thirtieth  of  January,  1847. 
Poe,  who  has  been  called  "the  greatest  Artist  of 
Death  "  is  said  to  have  arisen  night  after  night  from 
his  sleepless  pillow  and  gone  to  the  grave  of  his 
lost  Lenore.  Under  the  spell  of  his  sorrow  he  wrote 
"Ulalume."  But  nevertheless,  after  his  friends  had 
paid  his  debts  and  he  had  recovered  from  his  attack 
of  brain  fever,  his  correspondence  shows  that  his 
ambition  soon  awakened  again.  He  was  making  an 
earnest  effort  to  be  abstemious;  his  health  was  im 
proving.  He  wrote  some  unknown  friend  that  he 
was  done  with  drinking  forever.  Less  than  a  year 
from  the  death  of  Virginia  he  declared  that  he  had 
never  been  so  well.  The  project  of  a  new  maga 
zine  had  cropped  up  again  and  he  was  proposing 
to  go  South  on  a  lecture  tournee  using  his  chances 
to  secure  subscribers.  He  wrote  to  John  Neal  with 
a  view  of  lecturing  in  Portland;  he  also  tried  to  se 
cure  a  hall  and  an  audience  of  300  in  New  York 
City  —  all  with  the  same  end  —  to  start  his  many- 
times  postponed  "  Stylus."  He  also  wrote  his  trans 
cendental  prose  poem  "Eureka,"  which  he  tried  to 

(34) 


INTRODUCTION 

induce  Putnam  to  print  in  an  edition  of  50,000  cop 
ies.  What  was  more,  he  was  rapidly  falling  in  love 
with  Mrs.  Whitman.  He  had  once  refused  to  meet 
her,  but  having  heard  about  her  "eccentricities  and 
sorrows "  and  having  received  a  poetic  valentine 
from  her  he  wrote  her:  — "  A  profound  sympathy  took 
immediate  possession  of  my  soul.  I  cannot  better 
explain  to  you  what  I  felt  than  by  saying  that  your 
unknown  heart  seemed  to  pass  into  my  bosom  — 
there  to  dwell  forever  —  while  mine,  I  thought,  was 
translated  into  your  own.  From  that  hour  I  loved 


you 


A  little  later  he  was  assuring  her  of  his  eager 
desire  to  hold  her  close  to  his  heart,  and  recalling  to 
her  how,  when  they  had  taken  a  walk  together,  the 
bitter,  bitter  tears  had  sprung  into  his  eyes  and  he 
cried  "Helen,  I  love  tiow  —  now  —  for  the  first  and 
only  time." 

In  October  of  that  year  1848,  he  wrote  her: 
"By  the  God  who  reigns  in  Heaven,  I  swear  to  you 
that  my  soul  is  incapable  of  dishonor — that,  with 
the  exception  of  occasional  follies  and  excesses  which 
1  bitterly  lament  but  to  which  I  have  been  driven 
by  intolerable  sorrow,  and  which  are  hourly  com 
mitted  by  others  without  attracting  any  notice  what 
ever —  I  can  call  to  mind  no  act  of  my  life  which 
would  bring  a  blush  to  my  cheek  —  or  to  yours.  If 
I  have  erred  at  all  in  this  regard,  it  has  been  on  the 
side  of  what  the  world  would  call  a  quixotic  sense 
of  the  honorable  —  of  the  chivalrous.  The  indul 
gence  of  this  sense  has  been  the  true  voluptuous- 

(35) 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

ness  of  my  life.  It  was  for  this  species  of  luxury 
that  in  early  youth  I  deliberately  threw  away  from 
me  a  large  fortune  rather  than  endure  a  trivial  wrong. 
Ah!  how  profound  is  my  love  for  you,  since  it  forces 
me  into  these  egotisms  for  which  you  will  inevitably 
despise  me.' ' 

On  the  contrary,  Mrs.  Whitman,  who  was  equally 
sentimental  engaged  herself  to  Poe  and  would  have 
married  him,  had  not  her  friends  made  her  see  the 
folly  of  so  rash  a  step. 

Some  of  Poe's  letters  to  his  " kindest  best  friend" 
Marie  Louise  Shew,  look  a  little  as  if  a  slight  en 
couragement  would  have  inflamed  his  susceptible 
heart  in  that  quarter  also.  It  is  notable  that  this 
Mrs.  Shew,  who  had  come  as  a  good  angel  to  help  the 
distressed  family  and  staid  on,  not  only  suggested 
to  Poe  the  theme  of  "The  Bells,"  but  also  actually,  in 
pretending  to  mimic  his  style,  gave  him  the  start  for 
each  stanza  of  the  earliest  form  of  the  poem.  It  con 
sisted  at  first  of  eighteen  lines,  but  it  was  not  pub 
lished  until  it  had  been  rewritten  at  least  twice,  and 
then  not  until  six  months  after  its  author's  death. 

Poe  is  said  to  have  written  "Annabel  Lee"  in 
response  to  a  poem  of  Mrs.  Whitman's  entitled  "The 
Island  of  Dreams." 

Still  another  of  the  lovely  women  to  whom  Poe 
was  devoted  in  the  last  year  of  his  life,  was  Mrs.  S.  D. 
Lewis,  whom  he  celebrated  as  "Stella."  Poe  called 
her  "  the  best  educated,  if  not  the  most  accomplished 
of  American  authoresses."  Poe  wrote  his  "Enigma" 
to  her.  Her  name  is  hidden  in  the  lines.  He  also 


INTRODUCTION 

became  acquainted  with  Annie  Richmond  of  West- 
ford,  when  he  went  to  Lowell  to  lecture.  To  her 
he  addressed  a  poem  which  has  hidden  meaning. 

All  sorts  of  disappointments  overwhelmed  him. 
Magazines  on  which  he  placed  reliance  failed;  some 
of  his  articles  were  lost  in  the  mails.  He  wrote 
Annie  Richmond  that  he  was  full  of  dark  forebodings, 
that  his  life  seemed  wasted,  but  he  declared  that  he 
would  struggle  on  and  hope  against  hope. 

He  went  to  make  a  visit  in  Richmond.  He  told 
Mrs.  Lewis  that  he  had  a  presentiment  that  he  should 
never  see  her  again.  At  Philadelphia  he  stayed  with 
j.  Sartain,  who  published  a  magazine.  He  was  pos 
sessed  with  the  notion  that  some  foe  was  pursuing 
him.  He  wanted  to  borrow  a  razor  to  remove  his 
moustache  and  disguise  himself.  It  was  long  before 
ne  found  rest  from  his  disordered  fancies.  When  he 
reached  Richmond  his  fame  had  preceded  him,  and 
for  ten  weeks  he  was  feted  and  royally  entertained. 
He  delivered  several  lectures  and  recited  his  "Raven." 
He  renewed  old  friendships  and,  what  was  more  ex 
traordinary,  became  once  more  engaged  to  the  old 
flame  of  his  University  and  Academy  days,  Sarah 
Elmirah  Royster,  then  the  widow  of  a  man  named 
Shelton.  At  Richmond,  Poe  took  the  temperance 
pledge  which  was  so  soon  and  so  fatally  broken.  On 
his  way  back  to  New  York  he  stopped  in  Baltimore;  in 
some  unknown  way  he  fell  in  with  evil  companions, 
who  may  or  may  not  have  drugged  and  robbed  him  of 
the  $1,500  which  he  is  said  to  have  made  in  Richmond. 
He  was  taken  to  the  hospital  and  there,  after  declar- 


(37) 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

ing  that  the  best  thing  his  best  friend  could  do  would 
be  to  blow  his  brains  out  with  a  pistol,  he  died  on 
the  seventh  of  October.  His  last  words  were  "  Lord 
help  my  poor  soul." 

Such  was  the  distressful  life  of  Edgar  Allan  Poe. 
The  world  has  long  since  recognized  his  transcend 
ent  genius.  It  has  seen  in  his  sad  failings  rather  the 
result  of  environment  and  circumstance  than  of  any 
deliberate  breaking  of  moral  law;  it  was  disease  and 
not  sin  prepense.  All  that  is  forgotten  and  forgiven. 
His  works  are  accepted  as  a  splendid  legacy  of  lit 
erature.  In  them  there  is  not  a  line  to  erase.  They 
are  full  of  lofty  purity  and  fine  imagination.  They 
will  live. 


(38) 


BERENICE 

Dicebant  mihi  sodales,  si  sepulchrum  arnicas  visitarem, 
curas  meas  aliquantulum  fore  levatas. —  EBN  ZAIAT. 

ISERY  is  manifold.     The  wretchedness  of 
IV   /I  earth  is  multiform.     Overreaching  the 

I  y  I  wide  horizon  as  the  rainbow,  its  hues 

are  as  various  as  the  hues  of  that  arch 
—  as  distinct  too,  yet  as  intimately 
blended.  Overreaching  the  wide  horizon  as  the  rain 
bow!  How  is  it  that  from  beauty  I  have  derived  a 
type  of  unloveliness  ?  —  from  the  covenant  of  peace, 
a  simile  of  sorrow?  But,  as  in  ethics,  evil  is  a 
consequence  of  good,  so,  in  fact,  out  of  joy  is  sorrow 
born.  Either  the  memory  of  past  bliss  is  the  anguish 
of  to-day,  or  the  agonies  which  are,  have  their  origin 
in  the  ecstasies  which  MIGHT  HAVE  BEEN. 

My  baptismal  name  is  Egaeus ;  that  of  my  family  I 
will  not  mention.  Yet  there  are  no  towers  in  the  land 
more  time-honored  than  my  gloomy,  gray,  hereditary 
halls.  Our  line  has  been  called  a  race  of  visionaries ; 
and  in  many  striking  particulars-—^  the  character 
of  the  family  mansion,  in  the  frescoes  of  the  chief 
saloon,  in  the  tapestries  of  the  dormitories,  in  the 
chiselling  of  some  buttresses  in  the  armory,  but  more 
especially  in  the  gallery  of  antique  paintings,  in  the 
fashion  of  the  library  chamber,  and,  lastly,  in  the 


i 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

very  peculiar  nature  of  the  library's  contents  —  there 
is  more  than  sufficient  evidence  to  warrant  the  be 
lief. 

The  recollection  of  my  earliest  years  are  connected 
with  that  chamber,  and  with  its  volumes  —  of  which 
latter  I  will  say  no  more.  Here  died  my  mother. 
Herein  was  I  born.  But  it  is  mere  idleness  to  say 
that  I  had  not  lived  before  —  that  the  soul  has  no 
previous  existence.  You  deny  it?  —  let  us  not  argue 
the  matter.  Convinced  myself,  I  seek  not  to  convince. 
There  is,  however,  a  remembrance  of  aerial  forms  — 
of  spiritual  and  meaning  eyes  —  of  sounds,  musical 
yet  sad;  a* remembrance  which  will  not  be  excluded; 
a  memory  like  a  shadow  —  vague,  variable,  indefinite, 
unsteady;  and  like  a  shadow,  too,  in  the  impossibility 
of  my  getting  rid  of  it  while  the  sunlight  of  my 
reason  shall  exist. 

In  that  chamber  was  I  born.  Thus  awaking  from 
the  long  night  of  what  seemed,  but  was  not,  nonentit}^ 
at  once  into  the  very  regions  of  fairy-land  —  into  a 
palace  of  imagination  —  into  the  wild  dominions  of 
monastic  thought  and  erudition,  it  is  not  singular  that 
I  gazed  around  me  with  a  startled  and  ardent  eye, 
that  I  loitered  away  my  boyhood  in  books,  and 
dissipated  my  youth  in  revery;  but  it  is  singular 
that  as  years  rolled  away,  and  the  noon  of  manhood 
found  me  still  in  the  mansion  of  my  fathers  —  it  is 
wonderful  what  a  stagnation  there  fell  upon  the 
springs  of  my  life  —  wonderful  how  total  an  inversion 
took  place  in  the  character  of  my  commonest  thought. 
The  realities  of  the  world  affected  me  as  visions,  and 


10 


BERENICE 

as  visions  only,  while  the  wild  ideas  of  the  land  of 
dreams  became,  in  turn,  not  the  material  of  my 
every-day  existence,  but  in  very  deed  that  existence 

utterly  and  solely  in  itself. 

***** 

Berenice  and  I  were  cousins,  and  we  grew  up  to 
gether  in  my  paternal  halls.  Yet  differently  we  grew 
-I,  ill  of  health,  and  buried  in  gloom  —  she,  agile, 
graceful,  and  overflowing  with  energy;  hers  the 
ramble  on  the  hillside,  mine,  the  studies  of  the 
cloister;  I,  living  within  my  own  heart  and  addicted, 
body  and  soul,  to  the  most  intense  and  painful 
meditation  —  she,  roaming  carelessly  through  life, 
with  no  thought  of  the  shadows  in  her  path,  or  the 
silent  flight  of  the  raven- winged  hours.  Berenice !  I 
call  upon  her  name  —  Berenice !  —  and  from  the  gray 
ruins  of  memory  a  thousand  tumultuous  recollections 
are  startled  at  the  sound!  Ah,  vividly  is  her  image 
before  me  now,  as  in  the  early  days  of  her  light- 
heartedness  and  joy!  O  gorgeous  yet  fantastic 
beauty!  0  sylph  amid  the  shrubberies  of  Arnheim!; 
O  naiad  among  its  fountains !  And  then  —  then  all  \ 
is  mystery  and  terror,  and  a  tale  which  should  not 
be  told.  Disease  —  a  fatal  disease,  fell  like  the 
simoon  upon  her  frame ;  and  even,  while  I  gazed  upon 
her  the  spirit  of  change  swept  over  her,  pervading 
her  mind,  her  habits,  and  her  character,  and,  in  a 
manner  the  most  subtle  and  terrible,  disturbing  even 
the  identity  of  her  person !  Alas !  the  destroyer  came 
and  went !  —  and  the  victim  —  where  is  she  ?  I  knew 
her  not  —  or  knew  her  no  longer  as  Berenice ! 

u 


0 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

Among  the  numerous  train  of  maladies  superin 
duced  by  that  fatal  and  primary  one  which  effected 
a  revolution  of  so  horrible  a  kind  in  the  moral  and 
physical  being  of  my  cousin  may  be  mentioned,  as 
the  most  distressing  and  obstinate  in  its  nature,  a 
species  of  epilepsy  not  unfrequently  terminating  in 
TRANCE  itself  —  trance  very  nearly  resembling  posi 
tive  dissolution,  and  from  which  her  manner  of  re 
covery  was,  in  most  instances,  startlingly  abrupt.  In 
the  meantime,  my  own  disease  —  for  I  have  been  told 
that  I  should  call  it  by  no  other  appellation  —  my 
own  disease,  then,  grew  rapidly  upon  me,  and  as 
sumed  finally  a  monomaniac  character  of  a  novel  and 
extraordinary  form  —  hourly  and  momently  gaining 
vigor  —  and  at  length  obtaining  over  me  the  most 
incomprehensible  ascendency.  This  monomania,  if 
I  must  so  term  it,  consisted  in  a  morbid  irritability  of 
those  properties  of  the  mind  in  metaphysical  science 
termed  the  ATTENTIVE.  It  is  more  than  probable  that 
I  am  not  understood;  but  I  fear,  indeed,  that  it  is 
in  no  manner  possible  to  convey  to  the  mind  of  the 
merely  general  reader  an  adequate  idea  of  that 
nervous  INTENSITY  OP  INTEREST  with  which,  in  my 

II        "*n'  "  "  -v-«^j^**' 

case,  the  powers  of  meditation  (not  to  speak  technic 
ally)  busied  and  buried  themselves,  in  the  contempla 
tion  of  even  the  most  ordinary  objects  of  the  universe. 
To  muse  for  long  unwearied  hours,  with  my  atten 
tion  riveted  to  some  frivolous  device  on  the  margin  or 
in  the  typography  of  a  book ;  to  become  absorbed,  for 
the  better  part  of  a  summer's  day,  in  a  quaint  shadow 
falling  aslant  upon  the  tapestry  or  upon  the  floor;  to 

12 


BERENICE 

i  entire  night,  in  wj 
flame  of  a  lamp  or  the  embers  of  a  fire;  to  dream 


lose  myself,  for  an  entire  night,  in  watching  the  steady 


away  whole  days  over  the  perfume  of  a  flower;  to 
repeat,  monotonously,  some  common  word,  until  the 

i 

vey  any  idea  whatever  to  the  mind;  to  lose  all  sense 
of  motion  or  physical  existence,  by  means  of  absolute 
bodily  quiescence  long  and  obstinately  persevered  in,  ' 
—  such  were  a  few  of  the  most  common  and  least 
pernicious  vagaries  induced  by  a  condition  of  the 
mental  faculties,  not,  indeed,  altogether  unparalleled, 
but  certainly  bidding  defiance  to  anything  like  anal 
ysis  or  explanation. 

Yet  let  me  not  be  misapprehended.  The  undue, 
earnest,  and  morbid  attention  thus  excited  by  objects, 
in  their  own  nature  frivolous,  must  not  be  confounded 
in  character  with  that  ruminating  propensity  common 
to  all  mankind,  and  more  especially  indulged  in  by 
persons  of  ardent  imagination.  It  was  not  even,  as 
might  be  at  first  supposed,  an  extreme  condition,  or 
exaggeration  of  such  propensity,  but  primarily  and 
essentially  distinct  and  different.  In  the  one  instance, 
the  dreamer,  or  enthusiast,  being  interested  by  an 
object  usually  NOT  frivolous,  imperceptibly  loses  sight 
of  this  object  in  a  wilderness  of  deductions  and  sug 
gestions  issuing  therefrom,  until,  at  the  conclusion  of 
a  day-dream  OFTEN  REPLETE  WITH  LUXURY,  he  finds 
the  incitamentum,  or  first  cause  of  his  musings,  en 
tirely  vanished  and  forgotten.  In  my  case,  the  pri 
mary  object  was  INVARIABLY  FRIVOLOUS,  although  as 
suming,  through  the  medium  of  my  distempered 

13 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

vision,  a  refracted  and  unreal  importance.  Few 
deductions,  if  any,  were  made;  and  those  few 
pertinaciously  returning  in  upon  the  original  object 
as  a  center.  The  meditations  were  NEVER  pleasurable ; 
and  at  the  termination  of  the  revery  the  first  cause, 
so  far  from  being  out  of  sight,  had  attained  that 
supernaturally  exaggerated  interest  which  was  the 
prevailing  feature  of  the  disease.  In  a  word,  the 
powers  of  mind  more  particularly  exercised  were,  with 
me,  as  I  have  said  before,  the  ATTENTIVE,  and  are. 
with  the  day-dreamer,  the  SPECULATIVE. 

My  books,  at  this  epoch,  if  they  did  not  actually 
serve  to  irritate  the  disorder,  partook,  it  will  be  per 
ceived,  largely,  in  their  imaginative  and  incon 
sequential  nature,  of  the  characteristic  qualities  of  the 
disorder  itself.  I  well  remember,  among  others,  the 
treatise  of  the  noble  Italian,  Coelius  Secundus  Curio, 
De  Amplitudine  Beati  Regni  Dei;  St.  Austin's  great 
work,  The  City  of  God;  and  Tertullian's  De  Came 
Christi,  in  which  the  paradoxical  sentence,  "Mortuus 
est  Dei  filius;  credibile  est  quid  ineptum  est;  et  sepultus 
resurrcxit;  cerium  est  quia  impossibile  est,"  occupied 
my  undivided  time,  for  many  weeks  of  laborious  and 
fruitless  investigation. 

Thus  it  will  appear  that,  shaken  from  its  balance 
only  by  trivial  things,  my  reason  bore  resemblance  to 
that  ocean-crag  spoken  of  by  Ptolemy  Hephestion, 
which  steadily  resisting  the  attacks  of  human  vio 
lence,  and  the  fiercer  fury  of  the  waters  and  the  winds, 
trembled  only  to  the  touch  of  the  flower  called  Aspho 
del.  And  although,  to  a  careless  thinker,  it  might 


BERENICE 

appear  a  matter  beyond  doubt,  that  the  alteration  pro 
duced  by  her  unhappy  malady,  in  the  MORAL  condition 
of  Berenice,  would  afford  me  many  objects  for  the 
exercise  of  that  intense  and  abnormal  meditation 
whose  nature  I  have  been  at  some  trouble  in  ex 
plaining,  yet  such  was  not  in  any  degree  the  case. 
In  the  lucid  intervals  of  my  infirmity,  her  calmity, 
indeed,  gave  me  pain/>nd,  taking  deeply  to  heart 
that  total  wreck  of  her  fair  and  gentle  life,  I  did  not 
fail  to  ponder,  frequently  and  bitterly,  upon  the 
wonder-working  means  by  which  so  strange  a  revolu 
tion  had  been  so  suddenly  brought  to  pass.  But  these 
reflections  partook  not  of  the  idiosyncrasy  of  my 
disease,  and  were  such  as  would  have  occurred,  under 
similar  circumstances,  to  the  ordinary  mass  of  man 
kind.  True  to  its  own  character,  my  disorder 
revelled  in-  the  less  important  but  more  startling 
changes  wrought  in  the  physical  frame  of  Berenice 
-  in  the  singular  and  most  appalling  distortion  of 
her  personal  identity. 

During  the  brightest  days  of  her  unparalleled 
beauty,  most  surely  I  had  never  loved  her.  In  the 
strange  anomaly  of  my  existence,  feelings  with  me  HAD 
NEVER  BEEN  of  the  heart,  and  my  passions  ALWAYS 
WERE  of  the  mind.  Through  the  gray  of  the  early 
morning  —  among  the  trellised  shadows  of  the  forest 
at  noonday  —  and  in  the  silence  of  my  library  at 
night  —  she  had  flitted  by  my  eyes,  and  I  had  seen 
her  —  not  as  the  living  and  breathing  Berenice,  but 
as  the  Berenice  of  a  dream;  not  as  a  being  of  the 
earth,  earthy,  but  as  the  abstraction  of  such  a  being; 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

not  as  a  thing  to  admire,  but  to  analyze;  not  as  aiv 
object  of  love,  but  as  the  theme  of  the  most  abstruse 
although  desultory  speculation.  And  NOW  —  now  I 
shuddered  in  her  presence,  and  grew  pale  at  her 
approach;  yet,  bitterly  lamenting  her  fallen  and 
desolate  condition,  I  called  to  mind  that  she  had 
loved  me  long,  and  in  an  evil  moment  I  spoke  to  her 
of  marriage. 

And  at  length  the  period  of  our  nuptials  was  ap 
proaching,  when,  upon  an  afternoon  in  the  winter  of 
the  year,  one  of  those  unseasonably  warm,  calm,  and 
misty  days  which  are  the  nurse  of  the  beautiful  Hal 
cyon,*  I  sat  (and  sat,  as  I  thought  alone)  in  the  inner 
apartment  of  the  library.  But,  uplifting  my  eyes,  I 
saw  that  Berenice  stood  before  me. 

Was  it  my  own  excited  imagination  —  or  the 
misty  influence  of  the  atmosphere  —  or  the  uncertain 
twilight  of  the  chamber  —  or  the  gray  draperies  which 
fell  around  her  figure  —  that  caused  in  it  so 
vacillating  and  indistinct  an  outline?  I  could  not 
tell.  She  spoke  no  word;  and  I  —  not  for  worlds 
could  I  have  uttered  a  syllable !  An  icy  chill  ran 
through  my  frame;  a  sense  of  insufferable  anxiety 
oppressed  me;  a  consuming  curiosity  pervaded  my 
soul;  and,  sinking  back  upon  the  chair,  I  remained 
for  some  time  breathless  and  motionless,  with  my 
eyes  riveted  upon  her  person.  Alas!  its  emaciation 

*  For  as  Jove,  during  the  winter  season,  gives  twice 
seven  days  of  warmth,  men  have  called  this  clement  and 
temperate  time  the  nurse  of  the  beautiful  Halcyon. — . 
Simonides. 

16 


BERENICE 

was  excessive,  and  not  one  vestige  of  the  former  be 
ing  lurked  in  any  single  line  of  the  contour.  My 
burning  glances  at  length  fell  upon  the  face. 

The  forehead  was  high  and  very  pale,  and  singu 
larly  placid;  and  the  once  jetty  hair  fell  partially 
over  it,  and  overshadowed  the  hollow  temples  with 
innumerable  ringlets,  now  of  a  vivid  yellow,  and 
jarring  discordantly,  in  their  fantastic  character,  with 
the  reigning  melancholy  of  the  countenance.  The 
eyes  were  lifeless,  and  lustreless,  and  seemingly 
pupilless,  and  I  shrank  involuntarily  from  their 
glassy  stare  to  the  contemplation  of  the  thin  and 
shrunken  lips.  They  parted;  and  in  a  smile  of 
peculiar  meaning,  THE  TEETH  of  the  changed  Berenice 
disclosed  themselves  slowly  to  my  view.  Would  to 
God  that  I  had  never  beheld  them,  or  that,  having 

done  so,  I  had  died! 

***** 

The  shutting  of  a  door  disturbed  me,  and  looking 
up,  I  found  that  my  cousin  had  departed  from  the 
chamber.  But  from  the  disordered  chamber  of  my 
brain  had  not,  alas !  departed,  and  would  not  be 
driven  away,  the  white  and  ghastly  SPECTRUM  of  the 
teeth.  Not  a  speck  on  their  surface  —  not  a  shade 
on  their  enamel  —  not  an  indenture  in  their  edges  — 
but  what  that  brief  period  of  her  smile  had  sufficed 
to  brand  in  upon  my  memory.  I  saw  them  NOW  even 
more  unequivocally  than  I  beheld  them  THEN.  Ike 
teeth !  —  the  teeth !  —  they  were  here,  and  there,  and 
everywhere,  and  visibly  and  palpably  before  me; 
long,  narrow,  and  excessively  white,  with  the  pale 

i — 2  17 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

lips  writhing  about  them,  as  in  the  very  moment  of 
their  first  terrible  development.  Then  came  the  full 
fury  of  my  MONOMANIA,  and  I  struggled  in  vain 
against  its  strange  and  irresistible  influence.  In  the 
multiplied  objects  of  the  external  world  I  liad  no 
thoughts  but  for  the  teeth.  For  these  I  longed  with 
a  frenzied  desire.  All  other  matters  and  all  different 
interests  became  absorbed  in  their  single  contempla 
tion.  They,  they  alone  were  present  to  the  mental 
eye,  and  they,  in  their  sole  individuality,  became  the 
essence  of  my  mental  life.  I  held  them  in  every  light. 
I  turned  them  in  every  attitude.  I  surveyed  their 
characteristics.  I  dwelt  upon  their  peculiarities.  I 
pondered  upon  their  conformation.  I  mused  upon 
the  alteration  in  their  nature.  I  shuddered  as  I  as 
signed  to  them,  in  imagination,  a  sensitive  and  sen 
tient  power,  and,  even  when  unassisted  by  the  lips, 
a  capability  of  moral  expression.  Of  Mademoiselle 
Salle  it  has  been  well  said:  "Que  tons  ses  pas 
etaient  des  sentiments,"  and  of  Berenice  I  more  seri 
ously  believed  que  tons  ses  dents  etaient  des  idees. 
Des  idees!  —  ah,  here  was  the  idiotic  thought  that  de 
stroyed  me!  Des  idees!  —  ah,  THEREFORE  it  was  that 
J  coveted  him  so  madly!  I  felt  their  possession 
ould  alone  ever  restore  me  to  peace,  in  giving  me 
back  to  reason. 

And  the  evening  closed  in  upon  me  thus  —  and 
then  the  darkness  came,  and  tarried,  and  went  —  and 
the  day  again  dawned  —  and  the  mists  of_a  second 
night  were  now  gathering  around  —  and  still  I  sat  ^mo 
tionless  in  that  solitary  room  —  and  still  I  sat  buried 

18 


BERENICE 

in  meditation  —  and  still  the  PHANTASMA  of  the  teeth  / 
maintained  its  terrible  ascendency,  as,  with  the  most  i 
vivid  and  hideous  distinctness,  it  floated  about  amidj 
the  changing  lights  and  shadows  of  the  chamber.    At 
length  there  broke  in  upon  my  dreams  a  cry  as  of 
horror   and  dismay;   and  thereunto,   after   a  pause, 
succeeded  the  sound  of  troubled  voices,  intermingled 
with  many  low  moanings  of  sorrow  or  of  pain.     I 
arose  from  my  seat,  and  throwing  open  one  of  the 
doors  of  the  library,  saw  standing  out  in  the  ante 
chamber  a  servant  maiden,  all  in  tears,  who  told  me 
that  Berenice  was  —  no  more!     She  had  been  seized 
with  epilepsy  in  the  early  morning,  and  now,  at  the 
closing  in  of  the  night,  the  grave  was  ready  for  its 
tenant,  and  all  the  preparations  for  the  burial  were 

completed. 

*  *  *  *  • 

I  found  myself  sitting  in  the  library,  and  again 
sitting  there  alone.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  had 
newly  awakened  from  a  confused  and  exciting  dream. 
I  knew  that  it  was  now  midnight,  and  I  was  well 
aware,  that  since  the  setting  of  the  sun,  Berenice 
had  been  interred.  But  of  that  dreary  period  which 
intervened  I  had  no  positive,  at  least  no  definite, 
comprehension.  Yet  its  memory  was  replete  with 
horror  —  horror  more  horrible  from  being  vague,  and 
terror  more  terrible  from  ambiguity.  It  was  a  fear 
ful,  page  in  the  record  of  my  existence,  written  all 
over  with  dim,  and  hideous,  and  unintelligible  recol 
lections.  I  strived  to  decipher  them,  but  in  vain; 
while  ever  and  anon,  like  the  spirit  of  a  departed 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 


sound,  the  shrill  and  piercing  shriek  of  a  female  voice 
.seemed  to  be  ringing  in  my  ears.  I  had  done  a  deed 
—  what  was  it  ?  I  asked  myself  the  question  aloud, 
and  the  whispering  echoes  of  the  chamber  answered 
me,  "WHAT  WAS  IT?" 

On  the  table  beside  me  burned  a  lamp,  and  near  it 
lay  a  little  box.  It  was  of  no  remarkable  character, 
and  I  had  seen  it  frequently  before,  for  it  was  the 
property  of  the  family  physician;  but  how  came  it 
THERE,  upon  my  table,  and  why  did  I  shudder  in 
regarding  it?  These  things  were  in  no  manner  to  be 
accounted  for,  and  my  eyes  at  length  dropped  to 
the  open  pages  of  a  book,  and  to  a  sentence  under 
scored  therein.  The  words  were  the  singular  but 
simple  ones  of  the  poet  Ebn  Zaiat: — "Dicebant  mihi 
sodales  si  sepulchrum  amicce  visitarem,  curas  meas 
aliquantulum  fore  levatas."  Why,  then,  as  I  perused 
them,  did  the  hairs  of  my  head  erect  themselves  on 
end,  and  the  blood  of  my  body  become  congealed 
within  my  veins? 

There  came  a  light  tap  at  the  library  door  —  and, 
pale  as  the  tenant  of  a  tomb,  a  menial  entered  upon 
tiptoe.  His  looks  were  wild  with  terror,  and  he  spoke 
to  me  in  a  voice  tremulous,  husky,  and  very  low. 
What  said  he?  Some  broken  sentences  I  heard.  He 
told  of  a  wild  cry  disturbing  the  silence  of  the  night 
•. —  of  the  gathering  together  of  the  household  —  of 
a  search  in  the  direction  of  the  sound;  and  then  his 
tones  grew  thrillingly  distinct  as  he  whispered  me 
of  a  violated  grave,  of  a  disfigured  body  enshrouded, 
yet  still  breathing,  still  palpitating,  STILL  ALIVE  ! 

20 


BERENICE 

He  pointed  to  my  garments ;  they  were  muddy  and 
clotted  with  gore.  I  spoke  not,  and  he  took  me 
gently  by  the  hand:  it  was  indented  with  the  im 
press  oi'  human  nails.  He  directed  my  attention  to 
some  object  against  the  wall.  I  looked  at  it  for  some 
minutes ;  it  was  a  spade.  With  a  shriek  I  bounded  to 
the  table,  and  grasped  the  box  that  lay  upon  it.  But 
I  could  not  force  it  open;  and,  in  my  tremor  it 
slipped  from  my  hands  and  fell  heavily,  and  burst 
into  pieces ;  and  from  it,  with  a  rattling  sound,  there 
rolled  out  some  instruments  of  dental  surgery,  inter 
mingled  with  thirty-two  small,  white,  and  ivory-look 
ing  substances  that  were  scattered  to  and  fro  about 
the  floor. 


21 


THE 

UNPARALLELED   ADVENTURE 
OF    ONE    HANS    PFAALL 

With  a  heart  of  furious  fancies, 

Whereof  I  am  commander, 
With  a  burning  spear  and  a  horse  of  air, 

To  the  wilderness  I  wander. 

Tom  O'Bedlam's  Song. 

Y    LATE   accounts   from   Rotterdam,   that 
I    j  city   seems   to   be   in   a   high   state   of 

~J  philosophical  excitement.     Indeed,  phe 

nomena  have  there  occurred  of  a  na 
ture  so  completely  unexpected  —  so 
entirely  novel  —  so  utterly  at  variance  with  precon 
ceived  opinions  —  as  to  leave  no  doubt  on  my  mind 
that  long  ere  this  all  Europe  is  in  an  uproar,  all 
physics  in  a  ferment,  all  reason  and  astronomy  to 
gether  by  the  ears. 

It  appears  that  on  the  day  of  -    —   (I  am 

not  positive  about  the  date,)  a  vast  crowd  of  people, 
for  purposes  not  specifically  mentioned,  were  as 
sembled  in  the  great  square  of  the  Exchange  in  the 
well-conditioned  city  of  Rotterdam.  The  day  was 
warm — -unusually  so  for  the  season  —  there  was 
hardly  a  breath  of  air  stirring,  and  the  multitude 
were  in  no  bad  humor  at  being  now  and  then 


Vol,    1 


22 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

besprinkled  with  friendly  showers  of  momentary 
duration  that  fell  from  large  white  masses  of  cloud 
profusely  distributed  about  the  blue  vault  of  the 
firmament.  Nevertheless,  about  noon,  a  slight  but 
remarkable  agitation  became  apparent  in  the  as 
sembly:  the  clattering  of  ten  thousand  tongues  suc 
ceeded;  and,  in  an  instant  afterward,  ten  thousand 
faces  were  upturned  toward  the  heavens,  ten  thousand 
pipes  descended  simultaneously  from  the  corners  of 
ten  thousand  mouths,  and  a  shout,  which  could  be 
compared  to  nothing  but  the  roaring  of  Niagara,  re 
sounded  long,  loudly,  and  furiously  through  all  the 
city  and  through  all  the  environs  of  Rotterdam. 

The  origin  of  this  hubbub  soon  became  sufficiently 
evident.  From  behind  the  huge  bulk  of  one  of  those 
sharply  defined  masses  of  cloud  already  mentioned, 
was  seen  slowly  to  emerge  into  an  open  area  of  blue 
space  a  queer,  heterogeneous,  but  apparently  solid  sub 
stance,  so  oddly  shaped,  so  whimsically  put  together, 
as  not  to  be  in  any  manner  comprehended,  and  never 
to  be  sufficiently  admired,  by  the  host  of  sturdy 
burghers  who  stood  open-mouthed  below.  What 
could  it  be?  In  the  name  of  all  the  devils  in  Rot 
terdam,  what  could  it  possibly  portend?  No  one 
knew;  no  one  could  imagine;  no  one,  not  even  the 
burgomaster,  Mynheer  Superbus  Von  Underduk,  had 
the  slightest  clew  by  which  to  unravel  the  mystery; 
so,  as  nothing  more  reasonable  could  be  done,  every 
one,  to  a  man,  replaced  his  pipe  carefully  in  the 
corner  of  his  mouth,  and,  maintaining  an  eye  steadily 
upon  the  phenomenon,  puffed,  paused,  waddled  about, 


0 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

and     grunted     significantly;     then     waddled     back, 
grunted,  paused,  and,  finally,  puffed  again. 

In  the  meantime,  however,  lower  and  still  lower 
toward  the  goodly  city,  came  the  object  of  so  much 
curiosity,  and  the  cause  of  so  much  smoke.  In  a 
very  few  minutes  it  arrived  near  enough  to  be 
accurately  discerned.  It  appeared  to  be  —  yes !  it 
WAS  undoubtedly  a  species  of  balloon;  but  surely  no 
SUCH  balloon  had  ever  been  seen  in  Rotterdam  be 
fore.  For  who,  let  me  ask,  ever  heard  of  a  balloon 
manufactured  entirely  of  dirty  newspapers  ?  No  man 
in  Holland  certainly;  yet  here,  under  the  very  noses 
of  the  people,  or  rather  at  some  distance  ABOVE  their 
noses,  was  the  identical  thing  in  question,  and  com 
posed  (I  have  it  on  the  best  authority)  of  the  precise 
material  which  no  one  had  ever  before  known  to  be 
used  for  a  similar  purpose.  It  was  an  egregious  in 
sult  to  the  good  sense  of  the  burghers  of  Rotterdam. 
As  to  the  shape  of  the  phenomenon,  it  was  even  still 
more  reprehensible,  being  little  or  nothing  better  than 
a  huge  fool's-cap  turned  upside  down.  And  this 
similitude  was  regarded  as  by  no  means  lessened 
when,  upon  nearer  inspection,  the  crowd  saw  a  large 
tassel  depending  from  its  apex,  and,  around  the  upper 
rim  or  base  of  the  cone,  a  circle  of  little  instruments, 
resembling  sheep-bells,  which  kept  up  a  continual 
tinkling  to  the  tune  of  Betty  Martin.  But  still  worse. 
Suspended  by  blue  ribbons  to  the  end  of  this  fantastic 
machine,  there  hung,  by  way  of  car,  an  enormous 
drab  beaver  hat,  with  a  brim  superlatively  broad,  and 
a  hemispherical  crown  with  a  black  band  and  a  silver 


24 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

buckle.  It  is,  however,  somewhat  remarkable  that 
many  citizens  of  Rotterdam  swore  to  having  seen  the 
same  hat  repeatedly  before;  and  indeed  the  whole 
assembly  seemed  to  regard  it  with  eyes  of  familiarity ; 
while  the  vrow  Grettel  Pfaall,  upon  sight  of  it,  uttered 
an  exclamation  of  joyful  surprise,  and  declared  it 
to  be  the  identical  hat  of  her  goodman  himself.  Now 
this  was  a  circumstance  the  more  to  be  observed,  as 
Pfaall,  with  three  companions,  had  actually  disap 
peared  from  Rotterdam  about  five  years  before,  in 
a  very  sudden  and  unaccountable  manner,  and  up  to 
the  date  of  this  narrative  all  attempts  at  obtaining 
intelligence  concerning  them  had  failed.  To  be  sure, 
some  bones  which  were  thought  to  be  human,  mixed 
up  with  a  quantity  of  odd-looking  rubbish,  had  been 
lately  discovered  in  a  retired  situation  to  the  east 
of  the  city ;  and  some  people  went  so  far  as  to  imagine 
that  in  this  spot  a  foul  murder  had  been  committed, 
and  that  the  sufferers  were  in  all  probability  Hans 
Pfaall  and  his  associates.  But  to  return. 

The  balloon  (for  such  no  doubt  it  was)  had  now 
descended  to  within  a  hundred  feet  of  the  earth, 
allowing  the  crowd  below  a  sufficiently  distinct  view 
of  the  person  of  its  occupant.  This  was  in  truth  a 
very  singular  somebody.  He  could  not  have  been 
more  than  two  feet  in  height;  but  this  altitude,  little 
as  it  was,  would  have  been  sufficient  to  destroy  his 
EQUILIBRIUM  and  tilt  him  over  the  edge  of  his  tiny 
car  but  for  the  intervention  of  a  circular  rim  reach 
ing  as  high  as  the  breast  and  rigged  on  to  the  cords 
of  the  balloon.  The  body  of  the  little  man  was  more 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

than  proportionally  broad,  giving  to  his  entire  figure 
a  rotundity  highly  absurd.  His  feet,  of  course,  could 
not  be  seen  at  all.  His  hands  were  enormously  large. 
His  hair  was  gray,  and  collected  into  a  queue  be 
hind.  His  nose  was  prodigiously  long,  crooked,  and 
inflammatory;  his  eyes  full,  brilliant,  and  acute;  his 
chin  and  cheeks,  although  wrinkled  with  age,  were 
broad,  puffy,  and  double;  but  of  ears  of  any  kind 
there  was  not  a  semblance  to  be  discovered  upon  any 
portion  of  his  head.  This  odd  little  gentleman  was 
dressed  in  a  loose  surtout  of  sky-blue  satin,  with  tight 
breeches  to  match,  fastened  with  silver  buckles  at  the 
knees.  His  vest  was  of  some  bright  yellow  material ; 
a  white  taffety  cap  was  set  jauntily  on  one  side  of 
his  head;  and,  to  complete  his  equipment,  a  blood- 
red  silk  handkerchief  enveloped  his  throat,  and  fell 
down,  in  a  dainty  manner,  upon  his  bosom,  in  a 
fantastic  bow-knot  of  super-eminent  dimensions. 

Having  descended,  as  I  said  before,  to  about  one 
hundred  feet  from  the  surface  of  the  earth,  the  little 
old  gentleman  was  suddenly  seized  with  a  fit  of  trepi 
dation,  and  appeared  disinclined  to  make  any  nearer 
approach  to  terra  firma.  Throwing  out,  therefore,  a 
quantity  of  sand  from  a  canvas  bag,  which  he  lifted 
with  great  difficulty,  he  became  stationary  in  an  in 
stant.  He  then  proceeded,  in  a  hurried  and  agitated 
manner,  to  extract  from  a  side-pocket  in  his  surtout 
a  large  morocco  pocketbook.  This  he  poised  sus 
piciously  in  his  hand,  then  eyed  it  with  an  air  of  ex 
treme  surprise,  and  was  evidently  astonished  at  its 
weight.  He  at  length  opened  it,  and,  drawing  there- 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

from  a  huge  letter  sealed  with  red  sealing-wax  and 
tied  carefully  with  red  tape,  let  it  fall  precisely  at  the 
feet  of  the  burgomaster,  Superbus  Von  Underbuk. 
His  Excellency  stooped  to  take  it  up.  But  the 
aeronaut,  still  greatly  discomposed,  and  having 
apparently  no  further  business  to  detain  him  in  Rot 
terdam,  began  at  this  moment  to  make  busy  prepara 
tions  for  departure;  and  it  being  necessary  to  dis 
charge  a  portion  of  ballast  to  enable  him  to  reascend, 
the  half-dozen  bags  which  he  threw  out,  one  after 
another,  without  taking  the  trouble  to  empty  their 
contents,  tumbled,  every  one  of  them,  most  unfor 
tunately,  upon  the  back  of  the  burgomaster,  and 
rolled  him  over  and  over  no  less  than  half  a  dozen 
times,  in  the  face  of  every  individual  in  Rotterdam. 
It  is  not  to  be  supposed,  however,  that  the  great 
Underduk  suffered  this  impertinence  on  the  part  of 
the  little  old  man  to  pass  off  with  impunity.  It  is 
said,  on  the  contrary,  that  during  each  of  his  half- 
dozen  circumvolutions  he  emitted  no  less  than  half 
a  dozen  distinct  and  furious  whiffs  from  his  pipe,  to 
which  he  held  fast  the  whole  time  with  all  his  might, 
and  to  which  he  intends  holding  fast  (God  willing) 
until  the  day  of  his  decease. 

In  the  meantime  the  balloon  arose  like  a  lark,  and, 
soaring  far  away  above  the  city,  at  length  drifted 
quietly  behind  a  cloud  similar  to  that  from  which  it 
had  so  oddly  emerged,  and  was  thus  lost  forever  to 
the  wondering  eyes  of  the  good  citizens  of  Rotterdam. 
All  attention  was  now  directed  to  the  letter,  the 
descent  of  which,  and  the  consequences  attending 

27 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

thereupon,  had  proved  so  fatally  subversive  of  both 
person  and  personal  dignity  to  his  Excellency,  Yon 
Underduk.  That  functionary,  however,  had  not 
failed,  during  his  circumgyratory  movements,  to 
bestow  a  thought  upon  the  important  object  of  secur 
ing  the  epistle,  which  was  seen,  upon  inspection,  to 
have  fallen  into  the  most  proper  hands,  being  actually 
addressed  to  himself  and  Professor  Rubadub,  in  their 
official  capacities  of  President  and  Vice-President  of 
the  Rotterdam  College  of  Astronomy.  It  was  ac 
cordingly  opened  by  those  dignitaries  upon  the  spot, 
and  found  to  contain  the  following  extraordinary, 
and  indeed  very  serious,  communication : 

1  lTo  their  Excellencies  Ton  Underduk  and  Rubadub, 
President  and  Vice-President  of  the  States'  College 
of  Astronomer's,  in  the  city  of  Rotterdam. 

"Your  Excellencies  may  perhaps  be  able  to  re 
member  an  humble  artisan,  by  name  Hans  Pfaall, 
and  by  occupation  a  mender  of  bellows,  who,  with 
three  others,  disappeared  from  Rotterdam,  about  five 
years  ago,  in  a  manner  which  must  have  been  con 
sidered  unaccountable.  If,  however,  it  so  please  your 
Excellencies,  I,  the  writer  of  this  communication, 
am  the  identical  Hans  Pfaall  himself.  It  is  well  known 
to  most  of  my  fellow-citizens  that  for  the  period  of 
forty  years  I  continued  to  occupy  the  little  square 
brick  building  at  the  head  of  the  alley  called 
Sauerkraut,  in  which  I  resided  at  the  time  of  my 
disappearance.  My  ancestors  have  also  resided 


28 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

therein  time  out  of  mind  —  they,  as  well  as  my 
self,  steadily  following  the  respectable  and  indeed 
lucrative  profession  of  mending  of  bellows:  for,  to 
speak  the  truth,  until  of  late  years  that  the  heads 
of  all  the  people  have  been  set  agog  with  politics, 
no  better  business  than  my  own  could  an  honest 
citizen  of  Rotterdam  either  desire  or  deserve.  Credit 
was  good,  employment  was  never  wanting,  and  there 
was  no  lack  of  either  money  or  good-will.  But,  as 
I  was  saying,  we  soon  began  to  feel  the  effects  of 
liberty,  and  long  speeches,  and  radicalism,  and  all 
that  sort  of  thing.  People  who  were  formerly  the 
best  customers  in  the  world  had  now  not  a  moment 
of  time  to  think  of  us  at  all.  They  had  as  much  as 
they  could  do  to  read  about  the  revolutions,  and  keep 
up  with  the  march  of  intellect  and  the  spirit  of  the 
age.  If  a  fire  wanted  fanning,  it  could  readily  be 
fanned  with  a  newspaper;  and  as  the  government 
grew  weaker,  I  have  no  doubt  that  leather  and  iron 
acquired  durability  in  proportion;  for,  in  a  very 
short  time,  there  was  not  a  pair  of  bellows  in  all 
Rotterdam  that  ever  stood  in  need  of  a  stitch  or  re 
quired  the  assistance  of  a  hammer.  This  was  a 
state  of  things  not  to  be  endured.  I  soon  grew  as 
poor  as  a  rat,  and,  having  a  wife  and  children  to 
provide  for,  my  burdens  at  length  became  intoler 
able,  and  I  spent  hour  after  hour  in  reflecting  upon 
the  most  convenient  method  of  putting  an  end  to  my 
life.  Duns,  in  the  meantime,  left  me  little  leisure  for 
contemplation.  My  house  was  literally  besieged 
from  morning  till  night.  There  were  three  fellows  in 

29 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

particular  who  worried  me  beyond  endurance,  keep 
ing  watch  continually  about  my  door,  and  threaten- 
Iing  me  with  the  law.  Upon  these  three  I  vowed  the 
bitterest  revenge  if  ever  I  should  be  so  happy  as  to 
get  them  within  my  clutches;  and  I  believe  nothing 
in  the  world  but  the  pleasure  of  this  anticipation 
prevented  me  from  putting  my  plan  of  suicide  into 
immediate  execution,  by  blowing  my  brains  out  with 
a  blunderbuss.  I  thought  it  best,  however,  to 
dissemble  my  wrath,  and  to  treat  them  with  promises 
and  fair  words,  until,  by  some  good  turn  of  fate,  an 
opportunity  of  vengeance  should  be  afforded  me. 

"One  day,  having  given  them  the  slip,  and  feeling 
more  than  usually  dejected,  I  continued  for  a  long 
time  to  wander  about  the  most  obscure  streets  with 
out  object,  until  at  length  I  chanced  to  stumble 
against  the  corner  of  a  bookseller's  stall.  Seeing  a 
chair  close  at  hand,  for  the  use  of  customers,  I  threw 
myself  doggedly  into  it,  and,  hardly  knowing  why, 
opened  the  pages  of  the  first  volume  which  came 
within  my  reach.  It  proved  to  be  a  small  pamphlet 
treatise  on  Speculative  Astronomy,  written  either  by 
Professor  Encke  of  Berlin  or  by  a  Frenchman  of 
somewhat  similar  name.  I  had  some  little  tincture  of 
information  on  matters  of  this  nature,  and  soon  be 
came  more  and  more  absorbed  in  the  contents  of  the 
book,  reading  it  actually  through  twice  before  I 
awoke  to  a  collection  of  what  was  passing  around  me. 
By  this  time  it  began  to  grow  dark,  and  I  directed  my 
steps  toward  home.  But  the  treatise  (in  conjunction 
with  a  discovery  in  pneumatics,  lately  communicated 

50 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

to  me  as  an  important  secret  by  a  cousin  from  Nantz) 
had  made  an  indelible  impression  on  my  mind,  and, 
as  I  sauntered  along  the  dusky  streets,  I  revolved 
carefully  over  in  my  memory  the  wild  and  sometimes 
unintelligible  reasonings  of  the  writer.  There  are 
some  particular  passages  which  affected  my  imagina 
tion  in  an  extraordinary  manner.  The  longer  I 
meditated  upon  these,  the  more  intense  grew  the 
interest  which  had  been  excited  within  me.  The 
limited  nature  of  my  education  in  general,  and,  more 
especially,  my  ignorance  on  subjects  connected  with 
natural  philosophy,  so  far  from  rendering  me  dif 
fident  of  my  own  ability  to  comprehend  what  I  had 
read,  or  inducing  me  to  mistrust  the  many  vague 
notions  which  had  arisen  in  consequence,  merely 
served  as  a  further  stimulus  to  imagination;  and  I 
was  vain  enough,  or  perhaps  reasonable  enough,  to 
doubt  whether  those  crude  ideas  which,  arising  in 
ill-regulated  minds,  have  all  the  appearance,  may  not 
often  in  effect  possess  all  the  force,  the  reality,  and 
other  inherent  properties,  of  instinct  or  intuition. 

"It  was  late  when  I  reached  home,  and  I  went 
immediately  to  bed.  My  mind,  however,  was  too 
much  occupied  to  sleep,  and  I  lay  the  whole  night 
buried  in  meditation.  Arising  early  in  the  morning, 
I  repaired  eagerly  to  the  bookseller's  stall,  and  laid 
out  what  little  ready  money  I  possessed  in  the  pur 
chase  of  some  volumes  of  Mechanics  and  Practical 
Astronomy.  Having  arrived  at  home  safely  with 
these,  I  devoted  every  spare  moment  to  their  perusal, 
and  soon  made  such  proficiency  in  studies  of  this  na- 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

ture  as  I  thought  sufficient  for  the  execution  of  a 
certain  design  with  which  either  the  devil  or  my 
better  genius  had  inspired  me.  In  the  intervals  of 
this  period,  I  made  every  endeavor  to  conciliate  the 
three  creditors  who  had  given  me  so  much  annoyance. 
In  this  I  finally  succeeded ;  partly  by  selling  enough  of 
my  household  furniture  to  satisfy  a  moiety  of  their 
claim,  and  partly  by  a  promise  of  paying  the  balance 
upon  completion  of  a  little  project  which  I  told  them 
I  had  in  view,  and  for  assistance  in  which  I  solicited 
their  services.  By  these  means  (for  they  were  igno 
rant  men)  I  found  little  difficulty  in  gaining  them  over 
to  my  purpose. 

"Matters  being  thus  arranged,  I  contrived,  by  the 
aid  of  my  wife,  and  with  the  greatest  secrecy  and 
caution,  to  dispose  of  what  property  I  had  remaining, 
and  to  borrow,  in  small  sums,  under  various  pre 
tences,  and  without  giving  any  attention  (I  am 
ashamed  to  say)  to  my  future  means  of  repayment, 
no  inconsiderable  quantity  of  ready  money.  With  the 
means  thus  accruing  I  proceeded  to  procure,  at  in 
tervals,  cambric  muslin,  very  fine,  in  pieces  of  twelve 
yards  each;  twine;  a  lot  of  varnish  of  caoutchouc;  a 
large  and  deep  basket  of  wickerwork,  made  to  order ; 
and  several  other  articles  necessary  in  the  construc 
tion  and  equipment  of  a  balloon  of  extraordinary 
dimensions.  This  I  directed  my  wife  to  make  up  as 
soon  as  possible,  and  gave  her  all  requisite  informa 
tion  as  to  the  particular  method  of  proceeding.  In 
the  meantime  I  worked  up  the  twine  into  network 
of  sufficient  dimensions;  rigged  it  with  a  hoop  and 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

the  necessary  cords ;  and  made  purchase  of  numerous 
instruments  and  materials  for  experiment  in  the 
upper  regions  of  the  upper  atmosphere.  I  then  took 
opportunities  of  conveying  by  night,  to  a  retired 
situation  east  of  Rotterdam,  five  iron-bound  casks,  to 
contain  about  fifty  gallons  each,  and  one  of  a  larger 
size;  six  tin  tubes,  three  inches  in  diameter,  properly 
shaped,  and  ten  feet  in  length;  a  quantity  of  a 

PARTICULAR      MBTALIC       SUBSTANCE,       OR       SEMI-METAL, 

which  I  shall  not  name,  and  a  dozen  demijohns  of 
A  VERY  COMMON  ACID.  The  gas  to  be  formed  from 
these  latter  materials  is  a  gas  never  yet  generated 
by  any  other  person  than  myself  —  or  at  least  never 
applied  to  any  similar  purpose.  I  can  only  venture 
to  say  here  it  is  A  CONSTITUENT  OP  AZOTE,  so 
long  considered  irreducible,  and  that  its  density  is 
about  37.4  times  less  THAN  THAT  OF  HYDROGEN.  It 
is  tasteless,  but  not  odorless ;  burns,  when  pure,  with 
a  greenish  flame;  and  is  instantaneously  fatal  to 
animal  life.  Its  full  secret  I  would  make  no  diffi 
culty  in  disclosing,  but  that  it  of  right  belongs  (as  I 
have  before  hinted)  to  a  citizen  of  Nantz,  in  France, 
by  whom  it  was  conditionally  communicated  to  my 
self.  The  same  individual  submitted  to  me,  without 
being  at  all  aware  of  my  intentions  a  method  of  con 
structing  balloons  from  the  membrane  of  a  certain 
animal,  through  which  substance  any  escape  of  gas 
was  nearly  an  impossibility.  I  found  it,  however,  al 
together  too  expensive,  and  was  not  sure,  upon  the 
whole,  whether  cambric  muslin  with  a  coating  of  gum 
caoutchouc,  was  not  equally  as  good.  I  mention  this 


33 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

circumstance  because  I  think  it  probable  that  here 
after  the  individual  in  question  may  attempt  a  balloon 
ascension  with  the  novel  gas  and  material  I  have 
spoken  of,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  deprive  him  of  the 
honor  of  a  very  singular  invention. 

11  On  the  spot  which  I  intended  each  of  the  smaller 
casks  to  occupy  respectively  during  the  inflation  of 
the  balloon,  I  privately  dug  a  small  hole;  the  holes 
forming  in  this  manner  a  circle  twenty-five  feet  in 
diameter.  In  the  center  of  this  circle,  being  the 
station  designed  for  the  large  cask,  I  also  dug  a 
hole  of  greater  depth.  In  each  of  the  five  smaller 
holes,  I  deposited  a  canister  containing  fifty  pounds, 
and  in  the  larger  one  a  keg  holding  one  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds  of  cannon  powder.  These  —  the  keg  and 
canisters  —  I  connected  in  a  proper  manner  with 
covered  trains;  and  having  let  into  one  of  the 
canisters  the  end  of  about  four  feet  of  slow-match,  I 
covered  up  the  hole,  and  placed  the  cask  over  it,  leav 
ing  the  other  end  of  the  match  protruding  about  an 
inch,  and  barely  visible  beyond  the  cask.  I  then 
filled  up  the  remaining  holes,  and  placed  the  barrels 
over  them  in  their  destined  situation. 

"  Besides  the  articles  above  enumerated,  I  con 
veyed  to  the  depftt,  and  there  secreted,  one  of  M. 
Grimm's  improvements  upon  the  apparatus  for  con 
densation  of  the  atmospheric  air.  I  found  this  ma 
chine,  however,  to  require  considerable  alteration  be 
fore  it  could  be  adapted  to  the  purposes  to  which  I 
intended  making  it  applicable.  But,  with  severe 
labor  and  unremitting  perseverance,  I  at  length  met 

34 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

with  entire  success  in  all  my  preparations.  My 
balloon  was  soon  completed.  It  would  contain  more 
than  forty  thousand  cubic  feet  of  gas;  would  take 
me  up  easily,  I  calculated,  with  all  my  implements, 
and,  if  I  managed  rightly,  with  one  hundred  and 
seventy-five  pounds  of  ballast  into  the  bargain.  It 
had  received  three  coats  of  varnish,  and  I  found  the 
cambric  muslin  to  answer  all  the  purposes  of  silk  it 
self,  being  quite  as  strong  and  a  good  deal  less  ex 
pensive. 

"  Everything  being  now  ready,  I  exacted  from 
my  wife  an  oath  of  secrecy  in  relation  to  all  my 
actions  from  the  day  of  my  first  visit  to  the  book 
seller's  stall;  and  promising,  on  my  part,  to  return 
as  soon  as  circumstances  would  permit,  I  gave  her 
what  little  money  I  had  left,  and  bade  her  fare 
well.  Indeed  I  had  no  fear  on  her  account.  She 
was  what  people  call  a  notable  woman,  and  could 
manage  matters  in  the  world  without  my  assistance. 
I  believe,  to  tell  the  truth,  she  always  looked  upon 
me  as  an  idle  body,  a  mere  makeweight,  good  for 
nothing  but  building  castles  in  the  air,  and  was 
rather  glad  to  get  rid  of  me.  It  was  a  dark  night 
when  I  bade  her  good-bye,  and  taking  with  me,  as 
aides-de-camp,  the  three  creditors  who  had  given  me 
so  much  trouble,  we  carried  the  balloon,  with  the 
car  and  accoutrements,  by  a  roundabout  way,  to  the 
station  where  the  other  articles  were  deposited.  We 
there  found  them  all  unmolested,  and  I  proceeded 
immediately  to  business. 

"It  was  the  first  of  April.     The  night,  as  I  said 

35 


EDGAR    ALLAN     POE 

before,  was  dark;  there  was  not  a  star  to  be  seen; 
and  a  drizzling  rain,  falling  at  intervals,  rendered  us 
very  uncomfortable.  But  my  chief  anxiety  was  con 
cerning  the  balloon,  which,  in  spite  of  the  varnish 
with  which  it  was  defended,  began  to  grow  rather 
heavy  with  the  moisture;  the  powder  also  liable  to 
damage.  I  therefore  kept  my  three  duns  working 
with  great  diligence,  pounding  down  ice  around  the 
central  cask,  and  stirring  the  acid  in  the  others. 
They  did  not  cease,  however,  importuning  me  with 
questions  as  to  what  I  intended  to  do  with  all  this 
apparatus,  and  expressed  much  dissatisfaction  at  the 
terrible  labor  I  made  them  undergo.  They  could  not 
perceive,  so  they  said,  what  good  was  likely  to  re 
sult  from  their  getting  wet  to  the  skin,  merely  to 
take  a  part  in  such  horrible  incantations.  I  began 
to  get  uneasy,  and  worked  away  with  all  my  might, 
for  I  verily  believe  the  idiots  supposed  that  I  had 
entered  into  a  compact  with  the  devil,  and  that,  in 
short,  what  I  was  now  doing  was  nothing  better  than 
it  should  be.  I  was  therefore  in  great  fear  of  their 
leaving  me  altogether.  I  contrived,  however,  to 
pacify  them  by  promises  of  payment  of  all  scores  in 
full  as  soon  as  I  could  bring  the  present  business  to 
a  termination.  To  these  speeches  they  gave,  of 
course,  their  own  interpretation;  fancying,  no  doubt, 
that  at  all  events  I  should  come  into  possession  of 
vast  quantities  of  ready  money;  and  provided  I  paid 
them  all  I  owed,  and  a  trifle  more,  in  consideration 
of  their  services,  I  dare  say  they  cared  very  little 
what  became  of  either  my  soul  or  my  carcass. 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

"In  about  four  hours  and  a  half  I  found  the 
balloon  sufficiently  inflated.  I  attached  the  car,  there 
fore,  and  put  all  my  implements  in  it:  a  telescope; 
a  barometer  with  some  important  modifications;  a 
thermometer ;  an  electrometer ;  a  compass ;  a  mag 
netic  needle;  a  seconds  watch;  a  bell;  a  speaking- 
trumpet,  etc.,  etc.,  etc. ;  also  a  globe  of  glass,  ex 
hausted  of  air,  and  carefully  closed  with  a  stopper, 
• — not  forgetting  the  condensing  apparatus,  some 
unslacked  lime,  a  stick  of  sealing-wax,  a  copious 
supply  of  water,  and  a  large  quantity  of  provisions, 
such  as  pemmican,  in  which  much  nutriment  is  con 
tained  in  comparatively  little  bulk.  I  also  secured  in 
the  car  a  pair  of  pigeons  and  a  cat. 

"It  was  now  nearly  daybreak,  and  I  thought  it 
high  time  to  take  my  departure.  Dropping  a  lighted 
cigar  on  the  ground,  as  if  by  accident,  I  took  the 
opportunity,  in  stooping  to  pick  it  up,  of  igniting 
privately  the  piece  of  slow-match,  the  end  of  which, 
as  I  said  before,  protruded  a  little  beyond  the  lower 
rim  of  one  of  the  smaller  casks.  This  manoeuvre 
was  totally  unperceived  on  the  part  of  the  three 
duns;  and,  jumping  into  the  car,  I  immediately  cut 
the  single  cord  which  held  me  to  earth,  and  was 
pleased  to  find  that  I  shot  upward  with  inconceivable 
rapidity,  carrying  with  all  ease  one  hundred  and 
seventy-five  pounds  of  leaden  ballast,  and  able  to 
have  carried  up  as  many  more.  As  I  left  the  earth, 
the  barometer  stood  at  thirty  inches,  and  the  centi 
grade  thermometer  at  19°. 

"Scarcely,  however,  had  I  attained  the  height  of 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

fifty  yards,  when,  roaring  and  rumbling  up  after  me 
in  the  most  tumultuous  and  terrible  manner,  came 
so  dense  a  hurricane  of  fire,  and  gravel,  and  burning 
wood,  and  blazing  metal,  and  mangled  limbs,  that 
my  very  heart  sunk  within  me,  and  I  fell  down  in 
the  bottom  of  the  car,  trembling  with  terror.  Indeed, 
I  now  perceived  that  I  had  entirely  overdone  the 
business,  and  that  the  main  consequences  of  the 
shock  were  yet  to  be  experienced.  Accordingly,  in 
less  than  a  second,  I  felt  all  the  blood  in  my  body 
rushing  to  my  temples,  and  immediately  thereupon, 
a  concussion,  which  I  shall  never  forget,  burst 
abruptly  through  the  night,  and  seemed  to  rip  the 
very  firmament  asunder.  When  I  afterward  had 
time  for  reflection,  I  did  not  fail  to  attribute  the 
extreme  violence  of  the  explosion,  as  regarded  my 
self,  to  its  proper  cause  —  my  situation  directly 
above  it,  and  in  the  line  of  its  greatest  power.  But 
at  the  time  I  thought  only  of  preserving  my  life. 
The  balloon  at  first  collapsed,  then  furiously  ex 
panded,  then  whirled  round  and  round  with  sicken 
ing  velocity,  and  finally,  reeling  and  staggering  like 
a  drunken  man,  hurled  me  over  the  rim  of  the  car, 
and  left  me  dangling,  at  a  terrific  height, 
with  my  head  downward,  and  my  face  out 
ward,  by  a  piece  of  slender  cord  about  three 
feet  in  length,  which  hung  accidentally  through 
a  crevice  near  the  bottom  of  the  wickerwork, 
and  in  which,  as  I  fell,  my  left  foot  became 
most  providentially  entangled.  It  is  impossible — . 
utterly  impossible  —  to  form  any  adequate  idea  of 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

the  horror  of  my  situation.  I  gasped  convulsively 
for  breath,  a  shudder  resembling  a  fit  of  the  ague 
agitated  every  nerve  and  muscle  in  my  frame,  I 
felt  my  eyes  starting  from  their  sockets;  a  horrible 
nausea  overwhelmed  me,  and  at  length  I  lost  all 
consciousness  in  a  swoon. 

"How  long  I  remained  in  this  state  it  is  im 
possible  to  say.  It  must,  however,  have  been  no 
inconsiderable  time,  for  when  I  partially  recovered 
the  sense  of  existence,  I  found  the  day  breaking,  the 
balloon  at  a  prodigious  height  over  a  wilderness  of 
ocean,  and  not  a  trace  of  land  to  be  discovered  far 
and  wide  within  the  limits  of  the  vast  horizon.  My 
sensations,  however,  upon  thus  recovering,  were  by 
no  means  so  replete  with  agony  as  might  have 
anticipated.  Indeed,  there  was  much  of  madness 
the  calm  survey  which  I  began  to  take  of  my  situa 
tion.  I  drew  up  to  my  eyes  each  of  my  hands,  one 
after  the  other,  and  wondered  what  occurrence  could 
have  given  rise  to  the  swelling  of  the  veins,  and  the 
horrible  blackness  of  the  finger-nails.  I  afterward 
carefully  examined  my  head,  shaking  it  repeatedly, 
and  feeling  it  with  minute  attention,  until  I  succeeded 
in  satisfying  myself  that  it  was  not,  as  I  had  more 
than  half  suspected,  larger  than  my  balloon.  Then, 
in  a  knowing  manner,  I  felt  in  both  my  breeches 
pockets,  and,  missing  therefrom  a  set  of  tablets  and 
a  toothpick  case,  endeavored  to  account  for  their 
disappearance,  and,  not  being  able  to  do  so,  felt  inex 
pressibly  chargrined.  It  now  occurred  to  me  that  I 
suffered  great  uneasiness  in  the  joint  of  my  left  ankle, 

39 


e  by 
been 

3S  in 

itna-    Xj 


EDGAR    ALLAN     POE 

and  a  dim  consciousness  of  my  situation  began  to 
glimmer  through  my  mind.  But,  strange  to  say! 
I  was  neither  astonished  nor  horror-stricken.  If  I 
felt  any  emotion  at  all,  it  was  a  kind  of  chuckling 
satisfaction  at  the  cleverness  I  was  about  to  display 
in  extricating  myself  from  this  dilemma;  and  never, 
for  a  moment,  did  I  look  upon  my  ultimate  safety 
as  a  question  susceptible  of  doubt.  For  a  few  min 
utes  I  remained  wrapped  in  the  profoundest  medita 
tion.  I  have  a  distinct  recollection  of  frequently 
compressing  my  lips,  putting  my  forefinger  to  the 
side  of  my  nose,  and  making  use  of  other  gesticula 
tions  and  grimaces  common  to  men  who,  at  ease  in 
their  armchairs,  meditate  upon  matters  of  intricacy 
or  importance.  Having,  as  I  thought,  sufficiently 
collected  my  ideas,  I  now  with  great  caution  and 
deliberation,  put  my  hands  behind  my  back,  and  un 
fastened  the  large  iron  buckle  which  belonged  to  the 
waistband  of  my  pantaloons.  This  buckle  had  three 
teeth,  which,  being  somewhat  rusty,  turned  with 
great  difficulty  on  their  axis.  I  brought  them,  how 
ever,  after  some  trouble,  at  right  angles  to  the  body 
of  the  buckle,  and  was  glad  to  find  them  remain 
firm  in  that  position.  Holding  within  my  teeth  the 
instrument  thus  obtained,  I  now  proceeded  to  untie 
the  knot  of  my  cravat.  I  had  to  rest  several  times 
before  I  could  accomplish  this  manoeuvre;  but  it  was 
at  length  accomplished.  To  one  end  of  the  cravat 
I  then  made  fast  the  buckle,  and  the  other  end  I  tied, 
for  greater  security,  tightly  around  my  wrist.  Draw 
ing  now  my  body  upward,  with  a  prodigious  ex- 

40 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

ertion  of  muscular  force,  I  succeeded,  at  the  very  first 
trial,  in  throwing  the  buckle  over  the  car,  and  en 
tangling  it,  as  I  had  anticipated,  in  the  circular  rim 
of  the  wickerwork. 

''My  body  was  now  inclined  toward  the  side  of 
the  car  at  an  angle  of  about  forty-five  degrees;  but 
it  must  not  be  understood  that  I  was  therefore  only 
forty-five  degrees  below  the  perpendicular.  So  far 
from  it,  I  still  lay  nearly  level  with  the  plane  of 
the  horizon;  for  the  change  of  situation  which  I  had 
acquired  had  forced  the  bottom  of  the  car  consid 
erably  outward  from  my  position,  which  was  ac 
cordingly  one  of  the  most  imminent  peril.  It  should 
be  remembered,  however,  that  when  I  fell,  in  the  first 
instance,  from  the  car,  if  I  had  fallen  with  my  face 
turned  toward  the  balloon,  instead  of  turned  out 
wardly  from  it,  as  it  actually  was ;  or  if,  in  the  second 
place,  the  cord  by  which  I  was  suspended  had  chanced 
to  hang  over  the  upper  edge,  instead  of  through  a 
crevice  near  the  bottom  of  the  car, —  I  say  it  may 
readily  be  conceived  that,  in  either  of  these  supposed 
cases,  I  should  have  been  unable  to  accomplish  even 
as  much  as  I  had  now  accomplished,  and  the  dis 
closures  now  made  would  have  been  utterly  lost  to 
posterity.  I  had  therefore  every  reason  to  be  grate 
ful;  although,  in  point  of  fact,  I  was  still  too  stupid 
to  be  anything  at  all,  and  hung,  for  perhaps,  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  in  that  extraordinary  manner,  without 
making  the  slightest  further  exertion,  and  in  a 
singularly  tranquil  state  of  idiotic  enjoyment.  But 
this  feeling  did  not  fail  to  die  rapidly  away,  and 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

thereunto  succeeded  horror  and  dismay,  and  a  sense 
of  utter  helplessness  and  ruin.  In  fact,  the  blood  so 
long  accumulating  in  the  vessels  of  my  head  and 
throat,  and  which  had  hitherto  buoyed  up  my  spirits 
with  delirium,  had  now  begun  to  retire  within  their 
proper  channels,  and  the  distinctness  which  was  thus 
added  to  my  perception  of  the  danger,  merely  served 
to  deprive  me  of  the  self-possession  and  courage  to 
encounter  it.  But  this  weakness  was,  luckily  for  me, 
of  no  very  long  duration.  In  good  time  came  to  my 
rescue  the  spirit  of  despair,  and,  with  frantic  cries 
and  struggles,  I  jerked  my  way  bodily  upward,  till 
at  length,  clutching  with  a  vise-like  grip  the  long- 
desired  rim,  I  writhed  my  person  over  it,  and  fell 
headlong  and  shuddering  within  the  car. 

"It  was  not  until  some  time  afterward  that  I  re 
covered  myself  sufficiently  to  attend  to  the  ordinary 
cares  of  the  balloon.  I  then,  however,  examined  it 
with  attention,  and  found  it,  to  my  great  relief,  un 
injured.  My  implements  were  all  safe,  and,  fortu 
nately,  I  had  lost  neither  ballast  nor  provisions.  In 
deed,  I  had  so  well  secured  them  in  their  places  that 
such  an  accident  was  entirely  out  of  the  question. 
Looking  at  my  watch,  I  found  it  six  o'clock.  I  was 
still  rapidly  ascending,  and  the  barometer  gave  a 
present  altitude  of  three  and  three-quarter  miles. 
Immediately  beneath  me  in  the  ocean,  lay  a  small 
black  object,  slightly  oblong  in  shape,  seemingly 
about  the  size  of  a  domino,  and  in  every  respect  bear 
ing  a  great  resemblance  to  one  of  those  toys.  Bring 
ing  my  telescope  to  bear  upon  it,  I  plainly  discerned 


42 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

it  to  be  a  British  ninety-four-gun  ship,  close-hauled, 
and  pitching  heavily  in  the  sea  with  her  head  to  the 
W.  S.  W.  Besides  this  ship,  I  saw  nothing  but  the 
ocean  and  the  sky,  and  the  sun,  which  had  long 
arisen. 

"It  is  now  high  time  that  I  should  explain  to  your 
Excellencies  the  object  of  my  voyage.  Your  Excel 
lencies  will  bear  in  mind  that  distressed  circum 
stances  in  Rotterdam  had  at  length  driven  me  to  the 
resolution  of  committing  suicide.  It  was  not,  how 
ever,  that  to  life  itself  I  had  any  positive  disgust, 
but  that  I  was  harassed  beyond  endurance  by  the 
adventitious  miseries  attending  my  situation.  In  this 
state  of  mind,  wishing  to  live,  yet  wearied  with  life, 
the  treatise  at  the  stall  of  the  bookseller,  backed  by 
the  opportune  discovery  of  my  cousin  of  Nantz, 
opened  a  resource  to  my  imagination.  I  then  finally 
made  up  my  mind.  I  determined  to  depart,  yet  live ; 
to  leave  the  world,  yet  continue  to  exist;  in  short, 
to  drop  enigmas,  I  resolved,  let  what  would  ensure, 
to  force  a  passage,  if  I  could,  TO  THE  MOON.  Now, 
lest  I-  should  be  supposed  more  of  a  madman  than  I 
actually  am,  I  will  detail,  as  well  as  I  am  able,  the 
considerations  which  led  me  to  believe  that  an 
achievement  of  this  nature,  although  without  doubt 
difficult  and  full  of  danger,  was  not  absolutely,  to  a 
bold  spirit,  beyond  the  confines  of  the  possible. 

"The  moon's  actual  distance  from  the  earth  was 
the  first  thing  to  be  attended  to.  Now,  the  mean  or 
average  interval  between  the  CENTERS  of  the  two 
planets  is  59.9643  of  the. earth's  equatorial  RADII,  or 

43 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

only  about  237,000  miles.  I  say  the  mean  or  average 
interval;  but  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  form 
of  the  moon's  orbit,  being  an  ellipse  of  eccentricity 
amounting  to  no  less  than  0.05484  of  the  major  semi- 
axis  of  the  ellipse  itself,  and  the  earth's  center  being 
situated  in  its  focus,  if  I  could,  in  any  manner,  con 
trive  to  meet  the  moon  in  its  perigee,  the  above- 
mentioned  distance  would  be  materially  diminished. 
But,  to  say  nothing  at  present  of  this  possibility,  it 
was  very  certain  that,  at  all  events,  from  the  237,000 
miles  I  would  have  to  deduct  the  radius  of  the  earth, 
say  4,000,  and  the  radius  of  the  moon,  say  1,080,  in 
all  5,080,  leaving  an  actual  interval  to  be  traversed, 
under  average  circumstances,  of  231,920  miles.  Now 
this,  I  reflected,  was  no  very  extraordinary  distance. 
Traveling  on  the  land  has  been  repeatedly  accom 
plished  at  the  rate  of  sixty  miles  per  hour;  and,  in 
deed,  a  much  greater  speed  may  be  anticipated.  But 
even  at  this  velocity,  it  would  take  me  no  more  than 
161  days  to  reach  the  surface  of  the  moon.  There 
were,  however,  many  particulars  inducing  me  to  be 
lieve  that  my  average  rate  of  traveling  might  possibly 
very  much  exceed  that  of  sixty  miles  per  hour,  and, 
as  these  considerations  did  not  fail  to  make  a  deep  im 
pression  upon  my  mind,  I  will  mention  them  more 
fully  hereafter. 

"The  next  point  to  be  regarded  was  one  of  far 
greater  importance.  From  indications  afforded  by 
the  barometer,  we  find  that,  in  ascensions  from  the 
surface  of  the  earth  we  have,  at  the  height  of  1,000 
feet,  left  below  us  about  one-thirtieth  of  the  entire 


44 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

mass  of  atmospheric  air;  that  at  10,600  we  have 
ascended  through  nearly  one-third;  and  at  18,000, 
which  is  not  far  from  the  elevation  of  Cotopaxi,  we 
have  surmounted  one-half  the  material,  or,  at  all 
events,  one-half  the  PONDERABLE,  body  of  air  in 
cumbent  upon  our  globe.  It  is  also  calculated  that 
at  an  altitude  not  exceeding  the  hundredth  part  of  the 
earth's  diameter,  that  is,  not  exceeding  eighty  miles, 
the  rarefaction  would  be  so  excessive  that  animal 
life  could  in  no  manner  be  sustained,  and,  moreover, 
that  the  most  delicate  means  we  possess  of  ascertain 
ing  the  presence  of  the  atmosphere  would  be  inade 
quate  to  assure  us  of  its  existence.  But  I  did  not  fail 
to  perceive  that  these  latter  calculations  are  founded 
altogether  on  our  experimental  knowledge  of  the 
properties  of  air,  and  the  mechanical  laws  regulating 
its  dilation  and  compression,  in  what  may  be  called, 
comparatively  speaking,  THE  IMMEDIATE  VICINITY  of 
the  earth  itself;  and,  at  the  same  time,  it  is  taken 
for  granted  that  animal  life  is,  and  must  be, 
essentially  INCAPABLE  OF  MODIFICATION  at  any  given 
unattainable  distance  from  the  surface.  Now,  all 
such  reasoning  and  from  such  DATA  must,  of  course, 
be  simply  analogical.  The  greatest  height  ever 
reached  by  man  was  that  of  25,000  feet,  attained  in 
the  aeronautic  expedition  of  Messieurs  Gay-Lussac 
and  Biot.  This  is  a  moderate  altitude,  even  when 
compared  with  the  eighty  miles  in  question;  and  I 
could  not  help  thinking  that  the  subject  admitted 
room  for  doubt  and  great  latitude  for  speculation. 
"But,  in  point  of  fact,  an  ascension  being  made  to 


45 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

any  given  altitude,  the  ponderable  quantity  of  air 
surmounted  in  any  FARTHER  ascension  is  by  no 
means  in  proportion  to  the  additional  height  as 
cended  (as  may  be  plainly  seen  from  what  has  been 
stated  before),  but  in  a  RATIO  constantly  decreas 
ing.  It  is  therefore  evident  that,  ascend  as  high  as 
we  may,  we  cannot,  literally  speaking,  arrive  at  a 
limit  beyond  which  NO  atmosphere  is  to  be  found. 
It  MUST  EXIST,  I  argued;  although  it  MAY  exist  in  a 
state  of  infinite  rarefaction. 

"On  the  other  hand,  I  was  aware  that  arguments 
have  not  been  wanting  to  prove  the  existence  of  a 
real  and  definite  limit  to  the  atmosphere,  beyond 
which  there  is  absolutely  no  air  whatsoever.  But  a 
circumstance  which  has  been  left  out  of  view  by 
those  who  contend  for  such  a  limit  seemed  to  me, 
although  no  positive  refutation  of  their  creed,  still 
a  point  worthy  very  serious  investigation.  On  com 
paring  the  intervals  between  the  successive  arrivals 
of  Encke's  comet  at  its  perihelion,  after  giving 
credit,  in  the  most  exact  manner,  for  all  the  disturb 
ances  due  to  the  attractions  of  the  planets,  it  appears 
that  the  periods  are  gradually  diminishing;  that  is 
to  say,  the  major  axis  of  the  comet's  ellipse  is  grow 
ing  shorter,  in  a  slow  but  perfectly  regular  decrease. 
Now,  this  is  precisely  what  ought  to  be  the  case,  if 
we  suppose  a  resistance  experienced  from  the  comet 
from  an  extremely  RARE  ETHEREAL  MEDIUM  pervad 
ing  the  regions  of  its  orbit.  For  it  is  evident  that 
such  a  medium  must,  in  retarding  the  comet's 
velocity,  increase  its  centripetal,  by  weakening  its 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

centrifugal,  force.  In  other  words,  the  sun's  attrac 
tion  would  be  constantly  attaining  greater  power, 
and  the  comet  would  be  drawn  nearer  at  every  revo 
lution. 

"Indeed,  there  is  no  other  way  of  accounting 
for  the  variation  in  question.  But  again:  The  real 
diameter  of  the  same  comet's  nebulosity  is  observed 
to  contract  rapidly  as  it  approaches  the  sun,  and 
dilate  with  equal  rapidity  in  its  departure  toward 
its  aphelion.  Was  I  not  justifiable  in  supposing,  with 
M.  Valz,  that  this  apparent  condensation  of  volume 
has  its  origin  in  the  compression  of  the  same 
ethereal  medium  I  have  spoken  of  before,  and 
which  is  dense  in  proportion  to  its  vicinity 
to  the  sun?  The  lenticular-shaped  phenomenon, 
also,  called  the  zodiacal  light,  was  a  matter 
worthy  of  attention.  This  radiance,  so  apparent 
in  the  tropics,  and  which  cannot  be  mistaken 
for  any  meteoric  lustre,  extends  from  the  horizon 
obliquely  upward,  and  follows  generally  the  direc 
tion  of  the  sun's  equator.  It  appeared  to  me  evi 
dently  in  the  nature  of  a  rare  atmosphere  extending 
from  the  sun  outward,  beyond  the  orbit  of  Venus  at 
least,  and  I  believed  infinitely  farther.*  Indeed,  this 
medium  I  could  not  suppose  confined  to  the  path  of 
the  comet's  ellipse,  or  to  the  immediate  neighbor 
hood  of  the  sun.  It  was  easy,  on  the  contrary,  to 
imagine  it  pervading  the  entire  regions  of  our 


*  The  zodiacal  light  is  probably  what  the  ancients  called 
Trabes.  " Emicant  traces  quas  docos  vacant." — Pliny,  lib.  2, 
p.  26. 


47 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

planetary  system,  condensed  into  what  we  call 
atmosphere  at  the  planets  themselves,  and  perhaps 
at  some  of  them  modified  by  considerations  purely 
geological;  that  is  to  say,  modified,  or  varied  in  its 
proportions  (or  absolute  nature)  by  matters  vola 
tilized  from  the  respective  orbs. 

"Having  adopted  this  view  of  the  subject,  I  had 
little  further  hesitation.  Granting  that  on  my  pas 
sage  I  should  meet  with  atmosphere  ESSENTIALLY  the 
same  as  at  the  surface  of  the  earth,  I  conceived  that, 
by  means  of  the  very  ingenious  apparatus  of  M. 
Grimm,  I  should  readily  be  enabled  to  condense  it 
in  sufficient  quantity  for  the  purposes  of  respiration. 
This  would  remove  the  chief  obstacle  in  a  journey 
to  the  moon.  I  had  indeed  spent  some  money  and 
great  labor  in  adapting  the  apparatus  to  the  object 
intended,  and  confidently  looked  forward  to  its  suc 
cessful  application,  if  I  could  manage  to  complete 
the  voyage  within  any  reasonable  period.  This 
brings  me  back  to  the  RATE  at  which  it  would  be 
possible  to  travel. 

"It  is  true  that  balloons,  in  the  first  stage  of 
their  ascensions  from  the  earth,  are  known  to  rise 
with  a  velocity  comparatively  moderate.  Now,  the 
power  of  elevation  lies  altogether  in  the  superior 
gravity  of  the  atmospheric  air  compared  with  the 
gas  in  the  balloon;  and  at  first  sight  it  does  not  ap 
pear  probable  that,  as  the  balloon  acquires  altitude, 
and  consequently  arrives  successively  in  atmospheric 
STRATA  of  densities  rapidly  diminishing  —  I  say,  it 
does  not  appear  at  all  reasonable  that,  in  this  its 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

progress  upward,  the  original  velocity  should  be 
accelerated.  On  the  other  hand,  I  was  not  aware 
that,  in  any  recorded  ascension,  a  DIMINUTION  had 
been  proved  to  be  apparent  in  the  absolute  rate  of 
ascent;  although  such  should  have  been  the  case,  if 
on  account  of  nothing  else,  on  account  of  the 
escape  of  gas  through  balloons  ill  constructed, 
and  varnished  with  no  better  material  than 
the  ordinary  varnish.  It  seemed,  therefore,  that 
the  effect  of  such  escape  was  only  sufficient  to 
counterbalance  the  effect  of  the  acceleration  attained 
in  the  diminishing  of  the  balloon's  distance  from  the 
gravitating  center.  I  now  considered  that,  provided 
in  my  passage  I  found  the  MEDIUM  I  had  imagined, 
and  provided  it  should  prove  to  be  ESSENTIALLY  what 
we  denominate  atmospheric  air,  it  could  make  com 
paratively  little  difference  at  what  extreme  state  of 
rarefaction  I  should  discover  it, —  that  is  to  say,  in 
regard  to  my  power  of  ascending, —  for  the  gas  in 
the  balloon  would  not  only  be  itself  subject  to  similar 
rarefaction  (in  proportion  to  the  occurrence  of  which 
I  could  suffer  an  escape  of  so  much  as  would  be 
requisite  to  prevent  explosion),  but,  BEING  WHAT  IT 
WAS,  would,  at  all  events,  continue  specifically 
lighter  than  any  compound  whatever  of  mere 
nitrogen  and  oxygen.  Thus  there  was  a  chance  —  in 
fact  there  was  a  strong  probability  —  that,  at  no 
epoch  of  my  ascent,  I  should  reach  a  point  where  the 
united  weights  of  my  immense  balloon,  the  incon 
ceivably  rare  gas  within  it,  the  car,  and  its  contents 
should  equal  the  weight  of  the  mass  of  the  surround- 

i—4  49 


EDGAR    ALLAN     POE 

ing  atmosphere  displaced;  and  this  will  be  readily 
understood  as  the  sole  condition  upon  which  my  up 
ward  flight  would  be  arrested.  But,  if  this  point 
were  even  attained,  I  could  dispense  with  ballast 
and  other  weight  to  the  amount  of  nearly  three 
hundred  pounds.  In  the  meantime,  the  force  of 
gravitation  would  be  constantly  diminishing,  in  pro 
portion  to  the  squares  of  the  distances,  and  so,  with 
a  velocity  prodigiously  accelerating,  I  should  at 
length  arrive  in  those  distant  regions  where  the 
force  of  the  earth's  attraction  would  be  superseded 
by  that  of  the  moon. 

"There  was  another  difficulty,  however,  which 
occasioned  me  some  little  disquietude.  It  has  been 
observed  that,  in  balloon  ascensions  to  any  consider 
able  height,  besides  the  pain  attending  respiration, 
great  uneasiness  is  experienced  about  the  head 
and  body,  often  accompanied  with  bleeding  at 
the  nose  and  other  symptoms  of  an  alarm 
ing  kind,  and  growing  more  and  more  incon 
venient  in  proportion  to  the  altitude  attained.* 
This  was  a  reflection  of  a  nature  somewhat 
startling.  Was  it  not  probable  that  these  symp 
toms  would  increase  until  terminated  by  death 
itself?  I  finally  thought  not.  Their  origin  was  to 
be  looked  for  in  the  progressive  removal  of  the 


*  Since  the  original  publication  of  Hans  Pfaall,  I  find 
that  Mr.  Green,  of  Nassau-balloon  notoriety,  and  other  late 
aeronauts,  deny  the  assertions  of  Humboldt,  in  this  respect, 
and  speak  of  a  DECREASING  inconvenience,  precisely  in  ac 
cordance  with  the  theory  here  urged. 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

CUSTOMARY  atmospheric  pressure  upon  the  surface 
of  the  body  and  consequent  distension  of  the  super 
ficial  blood-vessels,  not  in  any  positive  disorganiza 
tion  of  the  animal  system  as  in  the  case  of  difficulty 
in  breathing,  where  the  atmospheric  density  is 
CHEMICALLY  INSUFFICIENT  for  the  due  renovation  of 
blood  in  a  ventricle  of  the  heart.  Unless  for  default 
of  this  renovation,  I  could  see  no  reason,  therefore, 
why  life  could  not  be  sustained  even  in  a  VACUUM; 
for  the  expansion  and  compression  of  chest,  com 
monly  called  breathing,  is  action  purely  muscular, 
and  the  CAUSE,  not  the  EFFECT,  of  respiration.  In 
a  word,  I  conceived  that,  as  the  body  should  be 
come  habituated  to  the  want  of  atmospheric  pressure, 
the  sensations  of  pain  would  gradually  diminish  — 
and  to  endure  them  while  they  continued,  I  relied 
with  confidence  upon  the  iron  hardihood  of  my 
constitution. 

"Thus,  may  it  please  your  Excellencies,  I  have 
detailed  some,  though  by  no  means  all,  the  con 
siderations  which  led  me  to  form  the  project  of  a 
lunar  voyage.  I  shall  now  proceed  to  lay  before  you 
the  result  of  an  attempt  so  apparently  audacious  in 
conception,  and,  at  all  events,  so  utterly  unparalleled 
in  the  annals  of  mankind. 

"Having  attained  the  altitude  before  mentioned 
—  that  is  to  say,  three  miles  and  three-quarters  — 
I  threw  out  from  the  car  a  quantity  of  feathers,  and 
found  that  I  still  ascended  with  sufficient  rapidity; 
there  was,  therefore,  no  necessity  for  discharging  any 
ballast.  I  was  glad  of  this,  for  I  wished  to  retain  with 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

me  as  much  weight  as  I  could  carry,  for  the  obvious 
reason  that  I  could  not  be  positive  either  about  the 
gravitation  or  the  atmospheric  density  of  the  moon. 
I  as  yet  suffered  no  bodily  inconvenience,  breathing 
with  great  freedom,  and  feeling  no  pain  whatever  in 
the  head.  The  cat  was  lying  very  demurely  upon 
my  coat,  which  I  had  taken  off,  and  eyeing  the 
pigeons  with  an  air  of  nonchalance.  These  latter, 
being  tied  by  the  leg  to  prevent  their  escape,  were 
busily  employed  in  picking  up  some  grains  of  rice 
scattered  for  them  in  the  bottom  of  the  car. 

"At  twenty  minutes  past  six  o'clock,  the  barom 
eter  showed  an  elevation  of  26,400  feet,  or  five  miles 
to  a  fraction.  The  prospect  seemed  unbounded.  In 
deed,  it  is  very  easily  calculated  by  means  of 
spherical  geometry  how  great  an  extent  of  the 
earth's  area  I  beheld.  The  convex  surface  of  any 
segment  of  a  sphere  is  to  the  entire  surface  of  the 
sphere  itself  as  the  versed  sine  of  the  segment  to  the 
diameter  of  the  sphere.  Now,  in  my  case,  the  versed 
sine  —  that  is  to  say,  the  THICKNESS  of  the  segment 
beneath  me  —  was  about  equal  to  my  elevation,  or 
the  elevation  of  the  point  of  sight  above  the  sur 
face.  'As  five  miles,  then,  to  eight  thousand,'  would 
express  the  proportion  of  the  earth's  area  seen  by  me. 
In  other  words,  I  beheld  as  much  as  a  sixteen- 
hundredth  part  of  the  whole  surface  of  the  globe.  The 
sea  appeared  unruffled  as  a  mirror,  although,  by 
means  of  the  telescope,  I  could  perceive  it  to  be  in 
a  state  of  violent  agitation.  The  ship  was  no  longer 
visible,  having  drifted  away,  apparently  to  the  east- 

52 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

ward.  I  now  began  to  experience,  at  intervals, 
severe  pain  in  the  head,  especially  about  the  ears 
—  still,  however,  breathing  with  tolerable  freedom. 
The  cat  and  pigeons  seemed  to  suffer  no  incon 
venience  whatsoever. 

"At  twenty  minutes  before  seven,  the  balloon  en 
tered  a  long  series  of  dense  cloud,  which  put  me  to 
great  trouble  by  damaging  my  condensing  apparatus 
and  wetting  me  to  the  skin;  this  was,  to  be  sure,  a 
singular  rencontre,  for  I  had  not  believed  it  possible 
that  a  cloud  of  this  nature  could  be  sustained  at  so 
great  an  elevation.  I  thought  it  best,  however,  to 
throw  out  two  five-pound  pieces  of  ballast,  reserving 
still  a  weight  of  one  hundred  and  sixty-five  pounds. 
Upon  so  doing,  I  soon  rose  above  the  difficulty,  and 
perceived  immediately  that  I  had  obtained  a  great 
increase  in  my  rate  of  ascent.  In  a  few  seconds 
after  my  leaving  the  cloud,  a  flash  of  vivid  lightning 
shot  from  one  end  of  it  to  the  other,  and  caused  it 
to  kindle  up,  throughout  its  vast  extent,  like  a  mass 
of  ignited  charcoal.  This,  it  must  be  remembered, 
was  in  the  broad  light  of  day.  No  fancy  may  picture 
the  sublimity  which  might  have  been  exhibited  by  a 
similar  phenomenon  taking  place  amid  the  darkness 
of  the  night.  Hell  itself  might  have  been  found  a 
fitting  image.  Even  as  it  was,  my  hair  stood  on  end, 
while  I  gazed  afar  down  within  the  yawning  abysses, 
letting  imagination  descend  and  stalk  about  in  the 
strange  vaulted  halls  and  ruddy  gulfs  and  red 
ghastly  chasms  of  the  hideous  and  unfathomable 
fire.  I  had  indeed  made  a  narrow  escape.  Had  the 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

balloon  remained  a  very  short  while  longer  within 
the  cloud  —  that  is  to  say,  had  not  the  inconvenience 
of  getting  wet  determined  me  to  discharge  the  ballast 
—  my  destruction  might,  and  probably  would,  have 
been  the  consequence.  Such  perils,  although  little 
considered,  are  perhaps  the  greatest  which  must  be 
encountered  in  balloons.  I  had  by  this  time,  how 
ever,  attained  too  great  an  elevation  to  be  any  longer 
uneasy  on  this  head. 

"I  was  now  rising  rapidly,  and  by  seven  o'clock, 
the  barometer  indicated  an  altitude  of  no  less  than 
nine  miles  and  a  half.  I  began  to  find  great  diffi 
culty  in  drawing  my  breath.  My  head,  too,  was  ex 
cessively  painful;  and,  having  felt  for  some  time  a 
moisture  about  my  cheeks,  I  at  length  discovered  it 
to  be  blood,  which  was  oozing  quite  fast  from  the 
drums  of  my  ears.  My  eyes,  also,  gave  me  great 
uneasiness.  Upon  passing  the  hand  over  them  they 
seemed  to  have  protruded  from  their  sockets  in  no 
inconsiderable  degree ;  and  all  objects  in  the  car,  and 
even  the  balloon  itself,  appeared  distorted  to  my 
vision.  These  symptoms  were  more  than  I  had  ex 
pected,  and  occasioned  me  some  alarm.  At  this 
juncture,  very  imprudently,  and  without  considera 
tion,  I  threw  out  from  the  car  three  five-pound  pieces 
of  ballast.  The  accelerated  rate  of  ascent  thus  ob 
tained  carried  me  too  rapidly,  and  without  suffi 
cient  gradation,  into  a  highly  rarefied  STRATUM  of 
the  atmosphere,  and  the  result  had  nearly  proved 
fatal  to  my  expedition  and  to  myself.  I  was  suddenly 
seized  with  a  spasm  which  lasted  for  more  than  five 


54 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

minutes,  and  even  when  this,  in  a  measure,  ceased,  I 
could  catch  my  breath  only  at  long  intervals  and  in  a 
gasping  manner,  bleeding  all  the  while  copiously  at 
the  nose  and  ears,  and  even  slightly  at  the  eyes. 
The  pigeons  appeared  distressed  in  the  extreme  and 
struggled  to  escape;  while  the  cat  mewed  piteously, 
and,  with  her  tongue  hanging  out  of  her  mouth, 
staggered  to  and  fro  in  the  car  as  if  under  the  in 
fluence  of  poison.  I  now,  too  late,  discovered  the  great 
rashness  of  which  I  had  been  guilty  in  discharging  the 
ballast,  and  my  agitation  was  excessive.  I  antic 
ipated  nothing  less  than  death,  and  death  in  a  few 
minutes.  The  physical  suffering  I  underwent  con 
tributed  also  to  render  me  nearly  incapable  of  mak 
ing  any  exertion  for  the  preservation  of  my  life.  I 
had,  indeed,  little  power  of  reflection  left,  and  the 
violence  of  the  pain  in  my  head  seemed  to  be  greatly 
on  the  increase.  Thus  I  found  that  my  senses  would 
shortly  give  way  altogether,  and  I  had  already 
clutched  one  of  the  valve  ropes  with  the  view  of  at 
tempting  a  descent,  when  the  recollection  of  the  trick 
I  had  played  the  three  creditors,  and  the  possible 
consequences  to  myself,  should  I  return,  operated  to 
deter  me  for  the  moment.  I  lay  down  in  the  bottom 
of  the  car  and  endeavored  to  collect  my  faculties.  In 
this,  I  so  far  succeeded  as  to  determine  upon  the  ex 
periment  of  losing  blood.  Having  no  lancet,  how 
ever,  I  was  constrained  to  perform  the  operation  in 
the  best  manner  I  was  able,  and  finally  succeeded  in 
opening  a  vein  in  my  left  arm  with  the  blade  of  my 
penknife.  The  blood  had  hardly  commenced  flowing 


55 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

when  I  experienced  a  sensible  relief,  and  by  the  time 
I  had  lost  about  half  a  moderate  basinful,  most  of  the 
worst  symptoms  had  abandoned  me  entirely.  I  never 
theless  did  not  think  it  expedient  to  attempt  getting 
on  my  feet  immediately;  but,  having  tied  up  my  arm 
as  well  as  I  could,  I  lay  still  for  about  a  quarter  of  an 
hour.  At  the  end  of  this  time  I  arose  and  found  my 
self  freer  from  absolute  PAIN  of  any  kind  than  I  had 
been  during  the  last  hour  and  a  quarter  of  my  as 
cension.  The  difficulty  of  breathing,  however,  was 
diminished  in  a  very  slight  degree,  and  I  found  that 
it  would  soon  be  positively  necessary  to  make  use  of 
my  condenser.  In  the  meantime,  looking  toward  the 
cat,  who  was  again  snugly  stowed  away  upon  my 
coat,  I  discovered,  to  my  infinite  surprise,  that  she  had 
taken  the  opportunity  of  my  indisposition  to  bring 
into  light  a  litter  of  three  little  kittens.  This  was 
an  addition  to  the  number  of  passengers  on  my  part 
altogether  unexpected;  but  I  was  pleased  at  the  oc 
currence.  It  would  afford  me  a  chance  of  bringing 
to  a  kind  of  test  the  truth  of  a  surmise  which,  more 
than  anything  else,  had  influenced  me  in  attempting 
this  ascension.  I  had  imagined  that  the  habitual 
endurance  of  the  atmospheric  pressure  at  the  surface 
of  the  earth  was  the  cause,  or  nearly  so,  of  the  pain 
attending  animal  existence  at  a  distance  above  the 
surface.  Should  the  kittens  be  found  to  suffer  un 
easiness  IN  AN  EQUAL  DEGREE  WITH  THEIR  MOTHER,  I 

must  consider  my  theory  in  fault,  but  a  failure  to  do 
so  I  should  look  upon  as  a  strong  confirmation  of  my 
idea. 

56 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

"By  eight  o'clock  I  had  actually  attained  an 
elevation  of  seventeen  miles  above  the  surface  of  the 
earth.  Thus  it  seemed  to  me  evident  that  my  rate  of 
ascent  was  not  only  on  the  increase,  but  that  the 
progression  would  have  been  apparent  in  a  slight  de 
gree  even  had  I  not  discharged  the  ballast  which  I 
did.  The  pains  in  my  head  and  ears  returned,  at 
intervals,  with  violence,  and  I  still  continued  to  bleed 
occasionally  at  the  nose;  but,  upon  the  whole,  I  suf 
fered  much  less  than  might  have  been  expected.  I 
breathed,  however,  at  every  moment  with  more  and 
more  difficulty,  and  each  inhalation  was  attended 
with  a  troublesome  spasmodic  action  of  the  chest.  I 
now  unpacked  the  condensing  apparatus  and  got  it 
ready  for  immediate  use. 

"The  view  of  the  earth,  at  this  period  of  my 
ascension,  was  beautiful  indeed.  To  the  westward, 
the  northward,  and  the  southward,  as  far  as  I  could 
see,  lay  a  boundless  sheet  of  apparently  unruffled 
ocean,  which  every  moment  gained  a  deeper  and 
deeper  tint  of  blue.  At  a  vast  distance  to  the  east 
ward,  although  perfectly  discernible,  extended  the 
island  of  Great  Britain,  the  entire  Atlantic  coasts  of 
France  and  Spain,  with  a  small  portion  of  the  north 
ern  part  of  the  continent  of  Africa.  Of  individual 
edifices  not  a  trace  could  be  discovered,  and  the 
proudest  cities  of  mankind  had  utterly  faded  away 
from  the  face  of  the  earth. 

"What  mainly  astonished  me,  in  the  appearance 
of  things  below,  was  the  seeming  concavity  of  the 
surface  of  the  globe.  I  had,  thoughtlessly  enough, 

57 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 


expected  to  see  its  real  CONVEXITY  become  evident  as 
I  ascended;  but  a  very  little  reflection  sufficed  to  ex 
plain  the  discrepancy.  A  line  dropped  from  my 
position  perpendicularly  to  the  earth  would  have 
formed  the  perpendicular  of  a  right-angled  triangle, 
of  which  the  base  would  have  extended  from  the 
right  angle  to  the  horizon,  and  the  hypothenuse  from 
the  horizon  to  my  position.  But  my  height  was 
little  or  nothing  in  comparison  with  my  prospect. 
In  other  words,  the  base  and  hypothenuse  of  the  sup 
posed  triangle  would,  in  my  case,  have  been  so  long, 
when  compared  to  the  perpendicular,  that  the  two 
former  might  have  been  regarded  as  nearly  parallel. 
In  this  manner  the  horizon  of  the  aeronaut  appears 
always  to  be  UPON  A  LEVEL  with  the  car.  But  as 
the  point  immediately  beneath  him  seems,  and  is,  at 
a  great  distance  below  him,  it  seems,  of  course,  also 
at  a  great  distance  below  the  horizon.  Hence  the 
impression  of  concavity;  and  this  impression  must 
remain  until  the  elevation  shall  bear  so  great  a  pro 
portion  to  the  prospect  that  the  apparent  parallelism 
of  the  base  and  hypothenuse  disappears. 

"The  pigeons  about  this  time  seeming  to  undergo 
much  suffering,  I  determined  upon  giving  them  their 
liberty.  I  first  united  one  of  them,  a  beautiful  gray- 
mottled  pigeon,  and  placed  him  upon  the  rim  of  the 
wickerwork.  He  appeared  extremely  uneasy,  look 
ing  anxiously  around  him,  fluttering  his  wings,  and 
making  a  loud  cooing  noise,  but  could  not  be  per 
suaded  to  trust  himself  from  the  car.  I  took  him  up 
at  last,  and  threw  him  to  about  half  a  dozen  yards 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

from  the  balloon.  He  made,  however,  no  attempt  to 
descend  as  I  had  expected,  but  struggled  with  great 
vehemence  to  get  back,  uttering  at  the  same  time 
very  shrill  and  piercing  cries.  He  at  length  suc 
ceeded  in  regaining  his  former  station  on  the  rim, 
but  had  hardly  done  so  when  his  head  dropped  upon 
his  breast  and  he  fell  dead  within  the  car.  The  other 
one  did  not  prove  so  unfortunate.  To  prevent  his 
following  the  example  of  his  companion  and  accom 
plishing  a  return,  I  threw  him  downward  with  all 
my  force,  and  was  pleased  to  find  him  continue  his 
descent  with  great  velocity,  making  use  of  his  wings 
with  ease  and  in  a  perfectly  natural  manner.  In  a 
very  short  time  he  was  out  of  sight,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  he  reached  home  in  safety.  Puss,  who  seemed 
in  a  great  measure  recovered  from  her  illness,  now 
made  a  hearty  meal  of  the  dead  bird,  and  then  went 
to  sleep  with  much  apparent  satisfaction.  Her 
kittens  were  quite  lively,  and  so  far  evinced  not  the 
slightest  sign  of  any  uneasiness. 

"At  a  quarter  past  eight,  being  able  no  longer  to 
draw  breath  without  the  most  intolerable  pain,  I 
proceeded  forthwith  to  adjust  around  the  car  the 
apparatus  belonging  to  the  condenser.  This  appa 
ratus  will  require  some  little  explanation,  and  your 
Excellencies  will  please  to  bear  in  mind  that  my 
object,  in  the  first  place,  was  to  surround  myself  and 
car  entirely  with  a  barricade  against  the  highly 
rarefied  atmosphere  in  which  I  was  existing,  with  the 
intention  of  introducing  within  this  barricade,  by 
means  of  my  condenser,  a  quantity  of  this  same 


59 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

atmosphere  sufficiently  condensed  for  the  purpos&  of 
respiration.  With  this  object  in  view  I  had  prepared 
a  very  strong,  perfectly  air-tight  but  flexible  gum- 
elastic  bag.  In  this  bag,  which  was  of  sufficient 
dimensions,  the  entire  car  was  in  a  manner  placed. 
That  is  to  say,  it  (the  bag)  was  drawn  over  the  whole 
bottom  of  the  car,  up  its  sides,  and  so  on,  along  the 
outside  of  the  ropes,  to  the  upper  rim  or  hoop  where 
the  network  is  attached.  Having  pulled  the  bag  up 
in  this  way  and  formed  a  complete  enclosure  on  all 
sides  and  at  bottom,  it  was  now  necessary  to  fasten 
up  its  top  or  mouth  by  passing  its  material  over  the 
hoop  of  the  network;  in  other  words,  between  the 
network  and  the  hoop.  But  if  the  network  were 
separated  from  the  hoop  to  admit  this  passage,  what 
was  to  sustain  the  car  in  the  meantime?  Now  the 
network  was  not  permanently  fastened  to  the  hoop, 
but  attached  by  a  series  of  running  loops  or  nooses. 
I  therefore  undid  only  a  few  of  these  loops  at  one 
time,  leaving  the  car  suspended  by  the  remainder. 
Having  thus  inserted  a  portion  of  the  cloth  forming 
the  upper  part  of  the  bag,  I  refastened  the  loops,  not 
to  the  hoop,  for  that  would  have  been  impossible 
since  the  cloth  now  intervened,  but  to  a  series  of 
large  buttons  affixed  to  the  cloth  itself,  about  three 
feet  below  the  mouth  of  the  bag;  the  intervals  be 
tween  the  buttons  having  been  made  to  correspond 
to  the  intervals  between  the  loops.  This  done,  a  few 
more  of  the  loops  were  unfastened  from  the  rim,  a 
further  portion  of  the  cloth  introduced,  and  the 
disengaged  loops  then  connected  with  their  proper 


60 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

buttons.  In  this  way  it  was  possible  to  insert  the 
whole  upper  part  of  the  bag  between  the  network 
and  the  hoop.  It  is  evident  that  the  hoop  would  not 
drop  down  within  the  car,  while  the  whole  weight  of 
the  car  itself,  with  all  its  contents,  would  be  held  up 
merely  by  the  strength  of  the  buttons.  This,  at  first 
sight,  would  seem  an  inadequate  dependence;  but  it 
was  by  no  means  so,  for  the  buttons  were  not  only 
very  strong  in  themselves,  but  so  close  together  that 
a  very  slight  portion  of  the  whole  weight  was  sup 
ported  by  any  one  of  them.  Indeed,  had  the  car  and 
contents  been  three  times  heavier  than  they  were,  I 
should  not  have  been  at  all  uneasy.  I  now  raised  up 
the  hoop  again  within  the  covering  of  gum-elastic, 
and  propped  it  at  nearly  its  former  height  by  means 
of  three  light  poles  prepared  for  the  occasion.  This 
was  done,  of  course,  to  keep  the  bag  distended  at  the 
top,  and  to  preserve  the  lower  part  of  the  network  in 
its  proper  situation.  All  that  now  remained  was  to 
fasten  up  the  mouth  of  the  enclosure;  and  this  was 
readily  accomplished  by  gathering  the  folds  of  the 
material  together  and  twisting  them  up  very  tightly 
on  the  inside  by  means  of  a  kind  of  stationary 
tourniquet. 

"In  the  sides  of  the  covering  thus  adjusted  round 
the  car,  had  been  inserted  three  circular  panes  of 
thick  but  clear  glass,  through  which  I  could  see  with 
out  difficulty  around  me  in  every  horizontal  direction. 
In  that  portion  of  the  cloth  forming  the  bottom  was 
likewise  a  fourth  window,  of  the  same  kind,  and 
corresponding  with  a  small  aperture  in  the  floor  of 

61 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

the  car  itself.  This  enabled  me  to  see  perpendicularly 
down,  but,  having  found  it  impossible  to  place  any 
similar  contrivance  overhead,  on  account  of  the  pecul 
iar  manner  of  closing  up  the  opening  there  and  the 
consequent  wrinkles  in  the  cloth,  I  could  expect  to 
see  no  objects  situated  directly  in  my  zenith.  This, 
of  course,  was  a  matter  of  little  consequence ;  for,  had 
I  even  been  able  to  place  a  window  at  top,  the  balloon 
itself  would  have  prevented  my  making  any  use 
of  it. 

"About  a  foot  below  one  of  the  side  windows  was 
a  circular  opening,  three  inches  in  diameter,  and 
fitted  with  a  brass  rim  adapted  in  its  inner  edge  to 
the  windings  of  a  screw.  In  this  rim  was  screwed  the 
larger  tube  of  the  condenser,  the  body  of  the  ma 
chine  being,  of  course,  within  the  chamber  of  gum- 
elastic.  Through  this  tube  a  quantity  of  the  rare 
atmosphere  circumjacent,  being  drawn  by  means  of 
a  VACUUM  created  in  the  body  of  the  machine,  was 
thence  discharged,  in  a  state  of  condensation,  to 
mingle  with  the  thin  air  already  in  the  chamber. 
This  operation  being  repeated  several  times,  at  length 
filled  the  chamber  with  atmosphere  proper  for  all  the 
purposes  of  respiration;  but  in  so  confined  a  space  it 
would,  in  a  short  time,  necessarily  become  foul  and 
unfit  for  use  from  frequent  contact  with  the  lungs. 
It  was  then  ejected  by  a  small  valve  at  the  bottom  of 
the  car,  the  dense  air  readily  sinking  into  the  thinner 
atmosphere  below.  To  avoid  the  inconvenience  of 
making  a  total  vacuum  at  any  moment  within  the 
chamber,  this  purification  was  never  accomplished  all 


6* 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

at  once,  but  in  a  gradual  manner, —  the  valve  being 
opened  only  for  a  few  seconds,  then  closed  again, 
until  one  or  two  strokes  from  the  pump  of  the  con 
denser  had  supplied  the  place  of  the  atmosphere 
ejected.  For  the  sake  of  experiment  I  had  put  the 
cat  and  kittens  in  a  small  basket,  and  suspended  it 
outside  the  car  to  a  button  at  the  bottom,  close  by 
the  valve,  through  which  I  could  feed  them  at  any 
moment  when  necessary.  I  did  this  at  some  little 
risk,  and  before  closing  the  mouth  of  the  chamber,  by 
reaching  under  the  car  with  one  of  the  poles  before 
mentioned,  to  which  a  hook  had  been  attached.  As 
soon  as  dense  air  was  admitted  in  the  chamber,  the 
hoop  and  poles  became  unnecessary ;  the  expansion  of 
the  enclosed  atmosphere  powerfully  distending  the 
gum-elastic. 

"By  the  time  I  had  fully  completed  these  arrange 
ments  and  filled  the  chamber  as  explained,  it  wanted 
only  ten  minutes  of  nine  o'clock.  During  the  whole 
period  of  my  being  thus  employed  I  endured  the  most 
terrible  distress  from  difficulty  of  respiration,  and  bit 
terly  did  I  repent  the  negligence,  or  rather  foolhardi- 
ness,  of  which  I  had  been  guilty,  of  putting  off  to  the 
last  moment  a  matter  of  so  much  importance.  But 
having  at  length  accomplished  it,  I  soon  began  to 
reap  the  benefit  of  my  invention.  Once  again  I 
breathed  with  perfect  freedom  and  ease  —  and,  in 
deed,  why  should  I  not?  I  was  also  agreeably  sur 
prised  to  find  myself  in  a  great  measure  relieved 
from  the  violent  pains  which  had  hitherto  tormented 
me.  A  slight  headache,  accompanied  with  a  sensa- 

63 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

tion  of  fulness  or  distension  about  the  wrists,  the 
ankles,  and  the  throat,  was  nearly  all  of  which  I  had 
now  to  complain.  Thus  it  seemed  evident  that  a 
greater  part  of  the  uneasiness  attending  the  removal 
of  atmospheric  pressure  had  actually  WORN  OFF,  as 
I  had  expected,  and  that  much  of  the  pain  endured 
for  the  last  two  hours  should  have  been  attributed 
altogether  to  the  effects  of  a  deficient  respiration. 

"At  twenty  minutes  before  nine  o'clock  —  that 
is  to  say,  a  short  time  prior  to  my  closing  up  the 
mouth  of  the  chamber,  the  mercury  attained  its  limit, 
or  ran  down,  in  the  barometer,  which,  as  I  mentioned 
before,  was  one  of  an  extended  construction.  It  then 
indicated  an  altitude  on  my  part  of  132,000  feet,  or 
five-and-twenty  miles,  and  I  consequently  surveyed 
at  that  time  an  extent  of  the  earth's  area  amounting 
to  no  less  than  the  three-hundred-and-twentieth  part 
of  its  entire  superficies.  At  nine  o'clock  I  had  again 
lost  sight  of  land  to  the  eastward,  but  not  before 
I  became  aware  that  the  balloon  was  drifting  rapidly 
to  the  N.  N.  W.  The  ocean  beneath  me  still  retained 
its  apparent  concavity,  although  my  view  was  often 
interrupted  by  the  masses  of  cloud  which  floated  to 
and  fro. 

"At  half-past  nine  I  tried  the  experiment  of 
throwing  out  a  handful  of  feathers  through  the  valve. 
They  did  not  float  as  I  had  expected;  but  dropped 
down  perpendicularly,  like  a  bullet,  en  masse,  and 
with  the  greatest  velocity,  being  out  of  sight  in  a 
very  few  seconds.  I  did  not  at  first  know  what  to 
make  of  this  extraordinary  phenomenon;  not  being 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

able  to  believe  that  my  rate  of  ascent  had,  of  a  sudden, 
met  with  so  prodigious  an  acceleration.  But  it  soon 
occurred  to  me  that  the  atmosphere  was  now  far  too 
rare  to  sustain  even  the  feathers;  that  they  actually 
fell,  as  they  appeared  to  do,  with  great  rapidity ;  and 
that  I  had  been  surprised  by  the  united  velocities  of 
their  descent  and  my  own  elevation. 

"By  ten  o'clock  I  found  that  I  had  very  little  to 
occupy  my  immediate  attention.  Affairs  went  on 
swimmingly,  and  I  believed  the  balloon  to  be  going 
upward  with  a  speed  increasing  momently,  although 
I  had  no  longer  any  means  of  ascertaining  the  pro 
gression  of  the  increase.  I  suffered  no  pain  or  un 
easiness  of  any  kind,  and  enjoyed  better  spirits  than 
I  had  at  any  period  since  my  departure  from  Rot 
terdam;  busying  myself  now  in  examining  the  state 
of  my  various  apparatus,  and  now  in  regenerating 
the  atmosphere  within  the  chamber.  This  latter  point 
I  determined  to  attend  to  at  regular  intervals  of 
forty  minutes,  more  on  account  of  the  preservation 
of  my  health  than  from  so  frequent  a  renovation  be 
ing  absolutely  necessary.  In  the  meanwhile  I  could 
not  help  making  anticipations.  Fancy  revelled  in  the 
wild  and  dreamy  regions  of  the  moon.  Imagination, 
feeling  herself  for  once  unshackled,  roamed  at  will 
among  the  ever-changing  wonders  of  a  shadowy  and 
unstable  land.  Now  there  were  hoary  and  time- 
honored  forests,  and  craggy  precipices,  and  water 
falls  tumbling  with  a  loud  noise  into  abysses 
without  a  bottom.  Then  I  came  suddenly  into 
still  moonday  solitudes,  where  no  wind  of  heaven 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

ever  intruded,  and  where  vast  meadows  of  poppies, 
and  slender,  lily-looking  flowers  spread  themselves 
out  a  weary  distance,  all  silent  and  motionless 
forever.  Then  again  I  journeyed  far  down  away  into 
another  country  where  it  was  all  one  dim  and  vague 
lake,  with  a  boundary  line  of  clouds.  But  fancies 
cuch  as  these  were  not  the  sole  possessors  of  my 
brain.  Horrors  of  a  nature  most  stern  and  most 
appalling  would  too  frequently  obtrude  themselves 
upon  my  mind,  and  shake  the  innermost  depths  of  my 
soul  with  the  bare  supposition  of  their  possibility. 
Yet  I  would  not  suffer  my  thoughts  for  any  length  of 
time  to  dwell  upon  these  latter  speculations,  rightly 
judging  the  real  and  palpable  dangers  of  the  voyage 
sufficient  for  my  undivided  attention. 

"At  five  o'clock,  p.  M.,  being  engaged  in  regenerat 
ing  the  atmosphere  within  the  chamber,  I  took  that 
opportunity  of  observing  the  cat  and  kittens  through 
the  valve.  The  cat  herself  appeared  to  suffer  again 
very  much,  and  I  had  no  hesitation  in  attributing 
her  uneasiness  chiefly  to  a  difficulty  in  breathing; 
but  my  experiment  with  the  kittens  had  resulted 
very  strangely.  I  had  expected,  of  course,  to  see  them 
betray  a  sense  of  pain,  although  in  a  less  degree  than 
their  mother;  and  this  would  have  been  sufficient  to 
confirm  my  opinion  concerning  the  habitual  endur 
ance  of  atmospheric  pressure.  But  I  was  not  pre 
pared  to  find  them,  upon  close  examination,  evidently 
enjoying  a  high  degree  of  health,  breathing  with  the 
greatest  ease  and  perfect  regularity,  and  evincing 
not  the  slightest  sign  of  any  uneasiness.  I  could  only 


66 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

account  for  all  this  by  extending  my  theory,  and 
supposing  that  the  highly  rarefied  atmosphere  around 
might  perhaps  not  be,  as  I  had  taken  for  granted, 
chemically  insufficient  for  the  purposes  of  life,  and 
that  a  person  born  in  such  a  MEDIUM  might,  possibly, 
be  unaware  of  any  inconvenience  attending  its  in 
halation,  while,  upon  removal  to  the  denser  STRATA 
near  the  earth,  he  might  endure  tortures  of  a  similar 
nature  to  those  I  had  so  lately  experienced.  It  has 
since  been  to  me  a  matter  of  deep  regret  that  an 
awkward  accident  at  this  time  occasioned  me  the  loss 
of  my  little  family  of  cats,  and  deprived  me  of  the 
insight  into  this  matter  which  a  continued  experi 
ment  might  have  afforded.  In  passing  my  hand 
through  the  valve,  with  a  cup  of  water  for  the  old 
puss,  the  sleeve  of  my  shirt  became  entangled  in  the 
loop  which  sustained  the  basket,  and  thus,  in  a  mo 
ment,  loosened  it  from  the  button.  Had  the  whole 
actually  vanished  into  air  it  could  not  have  shot 
from  my  sight  in  a  more  abrupt  and  instantaneous 
manner.  Positively,  there  could  not  have  intervened 
the  tenth  part  of  a  second  between  the  disengage 
ment  of  the  basket  and  its  absolute  disappearance 
with  all  that  it  contained.  My  good  wishes  followed 
it  to  the  earth,  but  of  course  I  had  no  hope  that  either 
cat  or  kittens  would  ever  live  to  tell  the  tale  of  their 
misfortune. 

"At  six  o'clock  I  perceived  a  great  portion  of  the 
earth 's  visible  area  to  the  eastward  involved  in  thick 
shadow,  which  continued  to  advance  with  great  ra 
pidity,  until,  at  five  minutes  before  seven,  the  whole 

67 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

surface  in  view  was  enveloped  in  the  darkness  of 
night.  It  was  not,  however,  until  long  after  this  time 
that  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun  ceased  to  illumine 
the  balloon;  and  this  circumstance,  although  of 
course  fully  anticipated,  did  not  fail  to  give  me  an 
infinite  deal  of  pleasure.  It  was  evident  that,  in 
the  morning,  I  should  behold  the  rising  luminary 
many  hours,  at  least,  before  the  citizens  of  Rotter 
dam,  in  spite  of  their  situation  so  much  farther  to 
the  eastward,  and  thus,  day  after  day,  in  proportion 
to  the  height  ascended,  would  I  enjoy  the  light  of 
the  sun  for  a  longer  and  a  longer  period.  I  now 
determined  to  keep  a  journal  of  my  passage,  reckon- 
ing  the  days  from  one  to  twenty-four  hours  con 
tinuously,  without  taking  into  consideration  the  in 
tervals  of  darkness. 

"At  ten  o'clock,  feeling  sleepy,  I  determined  to 
lie  down  for  the  rest  of  the  night;  but  here  a  diffi 
culty  presented  itself,  which,  obvious  as  it  may  ap 
pear,  had  escaped  my  attention  up  to  the  very  mo 
ment  of  which  I  am  now  speaking.  If  I  went  to 
sleep  as  I  proposed,  how  could  the  atmosphere  in  the 
chamber  be  regenerated  in  the  INTERIM?  To  breathe 
it  for  more  than  an  hour,  at  the  farthest,  would  be 
a  matter  of  impossibility;  or,  if  even  this  term  could 
be  extended  to  an  hour  and  a  quarter,  the  most 
ruinous  consequences  might  ensue.  The  considera 
tion  of  this  dilemma  gave  me  no  little  disquietude; 
and  it  will  hardly  be  believed,  that,  after  the  dangers 
I  had  undergone,  I  should  look  upon  this  business  in 
so  serious  a  light  as  to  give  up  all  hope  of  accom- 


68 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    FFAALL 

plishing  my  ultimate  design,  and  finally  make  up 
my  mind  to  the  necessity  of  a  descent.  But  this 
hesitation  was  only  momentary.  I  reflected  that  a 
man  is  the  veriest  slave  of  custom,  and  that  many 
points  in  the  routine  of  his  existence  are  deemed 
ESSENTIALLY  important  which  are  only  so  AT  ALL  by 
his  having  rendered  them  habitual.  It  was  very 
certain  that  I  could  not  do  without  sleep;  but  I 
might  easily  bring  myself  to  feel  no  inconvenience 
from  being  awakened  at  intervals  of  an  hour  dur 
ing  the  whole  period  of  my  repose.  It  would  re 
quire  but  five  minutes  at  most  to  regenerate  the  at 
mosphere  in  the  fullest  manner  —  and  the  only  real 
difficulty  was  to  contrive  a  method  of  arousing  my 
self  at  the  proper  moment  for  so  doing.  But  this 
was  a  question  which,  I  am  willing  to  confess,  oc 
casioned  me  no  little  trouble  in  its  solution.  To  be 
sure,  I  had  heard  of  the  student  who,  to  prevent 
his  falling  asleep  over  his  books,  held  in  one  hand  a 
ball  of  copper,  the  din  of  whose  descent  into  a  basin 
of  the  same  metal  on  the  floor  beside  his  chair  served 
effectually  to  startle  him  up,  if,  at  any  moment,  he 
should  be  overcome  with  drowsiness.  My  own  case, 
however,  was  very  different  indeed,  and  left  me  no 
room  for  any  similar  idea ;  for  I  did  not  wish  to  keep 
awake,  but  to  be  aroused  from  slumber  at  regular 
intervals  of  time.  I  at  length  hit  upon  the  following 
expedient,  which,  simple  as  it  may  seem,  was  hailed 
by  me  at  the  moment  of  discovery  as  an  invention 
fully  equal  to  that  of  the  telescope,  the  steam-engine, 
or  the  art  of  printing  itself. 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

"It  is  necessary  to  premise,  that  the  balloon,  at 
the  elevation  now  attained,  continued  its  course  up 
ward  with  an  even  and  undeviating  ascent,  and  the 
car  consequently  followed  with  a  steadiness  so  per 
fect  that  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  detect 
in  it  the  slightest  vacillation.  This  circumstance 
favored  me  greatly  in  the  project  I  now  determined 
to  adopt.  My  supply  of  water  had  been  put  on  board 
in  kegs  containing  five  gallons  each,  and  ranged 
very  securely  around  the  interior  of  the  car.  I  un 
fastened  one  of  these,  and,  taking  two  ropes,  tied 
them  tightly  across  the  rim  of  the  wickerwork  from 
one  side  to  the  other,  placing  them  about  a  foot  apart 
and  parallel,  so  as  to  form  a  kind  of  shelf,  upon 
which  I  placed  the  keg,  and  steadied  it  in  a 
horizontal  position.  About  eight  inches  immediately 
below  these  ropes,  and  four  feet  from  the  bottom  of 
the  car  I  fastened  another  shelf  —  but  made  of  thin 
plank,  being  the  only  similar  piece  of  wood  I  had. 
Upon  this  latter  shelf,  and  exactly  beneath  one  of  the 
rims  of  the  keg,  a  small  earthen  pitcher  was  de 
posited.  I  now  bored  a  hole  in  the  end  of  the  keg 
over  the  pitcher,  and  fitted  in  a  plug  of  soft  wood, 
cut  in  a  tapering  or  conical  shape.  This  plug  I 
pushed  in  or  pulled  out,  as  might  happen,  until,  after 
a  few  experiments,  it  arrived  at  that  exact  degree 
of  tightness  at  which  the  water,  oozing  from  the  hole, 
and  falling  into  the  pitcher  below,  would  fill  the 
latter  to  the  brim  in  the  period  of  sixty  minutes. 
This,  of  course,  was  a  matter  briefly  and  easily  as 
certained,  by  noticing  the  proportion  of  the  pitcher 


70 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

filled  in  any  given  time.  Having  arranged  all  this, 
the  rest  of  the  plan  is  obvious.  My  bed  was  so  con 
trived  upon  the  floor  of  the  car  as  to  bring  my  head, 
in  lying  down,  immediately  below  the  mouth  of  the 
pitcher.  It  was  evident  that,  at  the  expiration  of  an 
hour,  the  pitcher,  getting  full,  would  be  forced  to 
run  over,  and  to  run  over  at  the  mouth,  which  was 
somewhat  lower  than  the  rim.  It  was  also  evident 
that  the  water,  thus  falling  from  a  height  of  more 
than  four  feet,  could  not  do  otherwise  than  fall  upon 
my  face,  and  that  the  sure  consequence  would  be 
to  waken  me  up  instantaneously,  even  from  the 
soundest  slumber  in  the  world. 

"It  was  fully  eleven  by  the  time  I  had  completed 
these  arrangements,  and  I  immediately  betook  my 
self  to  bed,  with  full  confidence  in  the  efficiency  of 
my  invention.  Nor  in  this  matter  was  I  disappointed. 
Punctually  every  sixty  minutes  was  I  aroused  by  my 
trusty  chronometer,  when,  having  emptied  the  pitcher 
into  the  hung-hole  of  the  keg,  and  performed  the 
duties  of  the  condenser,  I  retired  again  to  bed.  These 
regular  interruptions  to  my  slumber  caused  me  even 
less  discomfort  than  I  had  anticipated,  and  when  I 
finally  arose  for  the  day  it  was  seven  o  'clock,  and  the 
sun  had  attained  many  degrees  above  the  line  of  my 
horizon. 

"  April  3d.  I  found  the  balloon  at  an  immense 
height  indeed,  and  the  earth's  convexity  had  now 
become  strikingly  manifest.  Below  me  in  the  ocean 
lay  a  cluster  of  black  specks,  which  undoubtedly 
were  islands.  Overhead,  the  sky  was  of  a  jetty  black, 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

and  the  stars  were  brilliantly  visible;  indeed,  they 
had  been  so  constantly  since  the  first  day  of  ascent. 
Far  away  to  the  northward  I  perceived  a  thin,  white, 
and  exceedingly  brilliant  line,  or  streak,  on  the  edge 
of  the  horizon,  and  I  had  no  hesitation  in  supposing 
it  to  be  the  southern  disk  of  the  ices  of  the  polar 
sea.  My  curiosity  was  greatly  excited,  for  I  had 
hopes  of  passing  on  much  farther  to  the  north,  and 
might  possibly,  at  some  period,  find  myself  placed 
directly  above  the  pole  itself.  I  now  lamented  that 
my  great  elevation  would,  in  this  case,  prevent  my 
taking  as  accurate  a  survey  as  I  could  wish.  Much, 
however,  might  be  ascertained. 

"  Nothing  else  of  an  extraordinary  nature  oc 
curred  during  the  day.  My  apparatus  all  continued 
in  good  order,  and  the  balloon  still  ascended  without 
any  perceptible  vacillation.  The  cold  was  intense, 
and  obliged  me  to  wrap  up  closely  in  an  overcoat. 
When  darkness  came  over  the  earth,  I  betook  myself 
to  bed,  although  it  was  for  many  hours  afterward 
broad  daylight  all  around  my  immediate  situation. 
The  water-clock  was  punctual  in  its  duty,  and  I  slept 
until  next  morning  soundly,  with  the  exception  of 
the  periodical  interruption. 

11  April  4th.  Arose  in  good  health  and  spirits,  and 
was  astonished  at  the  singular  change  which  had 
taken  place  in  the  appearance  of  the  sea.  It  had 
lost,  in  a  great  measure,  the  deep  tint  of  blue  it  had 
hitherto  worn,  being  now  of  a  grayish-white,  and  of 
a  lustre  dazzling  to  the  eye.  The  convexity  of  the 
ocean  had  become  so  evident  that  the  entire  mass  of 

72 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

the  distant  water  seemed  to  be  tumbling  headlong 
over  the  abyss  of  the  horizon,  and  I  found  myself 
listening  on  tiptoe  for  the  echoes  of  the  mighty 
cataract.  The  islands  were  no  longer  visible ;  whether 
they  had  passed  down  the  horizon  to  the  southeast, 
or  whether  my  increasing  elevation  had  left  them  out 
of  sight,  it  is  impossible  to  say.  I  was  inclined,  how 
ever,  to  the  latter  opinion.  The  rim  of  ice  to  the 
northward  was  growing  more  and  more  apparent. 
Cold  by  no  means  so  intense.  Nothing  of  importance 
occurred,  and  I  passed  the  day  in  reading,  having 
taken  care  to  supply  myself  with  books. 

"April  5tli.  Beheld  the  singular  phenomenon  of 
the  sun  rising  while  nearly  the  whole  visible  surface 
of  the  earth  continued  to  be  involved  in  darkness. 
In  time,  however,  the  light  spread  itself  over  all, 
and  I  again  saw  the  line  of  ice  to  the  northward. 
It  was  now  very  distinct,  and  appeared  of  a  much 
darker  hue  than  the  waters  of  the  ocean.  I  was  evi 
dently  approaching  it,  and  with  great  rapidity. 
Fancied  I  could  again  distinguish  a  strip  of  land  to 
the  eastward,  and  one  also  to  the  westward,  but  could 
not  be  certain.  Weather  moderate.  Nothing  of  any 
consequence  happened  during  the  day.  Went  early 
to  bed. 

"April  6th.  Was  surprised  at  finding  the  rim  of 
ice  at  a  very  moderate  distance,  and  an  immense  field 
of  the  same  material  stretching  away  off  to  the  ho 
rizon  in  the  north.  It  was  evident  that,  if  the 
balloon  held  its  present  course,  it  would  soon  arrive 
above  the  frozen  ocean,  and  I  had  now  little  doubt 

73 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

of  ultimately  seeing  the  pole.  During  the  whole  of 
the  day  I  continued  to  near  the  ice.  Toward  night  the 
limits  of  my  horizon  very  suddenly  and  materially 
increased,  owing  undoubtedly  to  the  earth's  form  be 
ing  that  of  an  oblate  spheroid,  and  my  arriving  above 
the  flattened  regions  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Arctic 
circle.  When  darkness  at  length  overtook  me,  I  went 
to  bed  in  great  anxiety,  fearing  to  pass  over  the 
object  of  so  much  curiosity  when  I  should  have  no 
opportunity  of  observing  it. 

"April  7th.  Arose  early,  and,  to  my  great  joy, 
at  length  beheld  what  there  could  be  no  hesitation 
in  supposing  the  northern  pole  itself.  It  was  there, 
beyond  a  doubt,  and  immediately  beneath  my  feet; 
but  alas !  I  had  now  ascended  to  so  vast  a  distance 
that  nothing  could  with  accuracy  be  discerned.  In 
deed,  to  judge  from  the  progression  of  the  numbers 
indicating  my  various  altitudes,  respectively,  at  dif 
ferent  periods,  between  six  A.  M.,  on  the  second  of 
April,  and  twenty  minutes  before  nine  A.M.,  of  the 
same  day  (at  which  time  the  barometer  ran  down), 
it  might  be  fairly  inferred  that  the  balloon  had  now. 
at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  April  the  seventh, 
reached  a  height  of  NOT  LESS,  certainly,  than  7,254 
miles  above  the  surface  of  the  sea.  This  elevation 
may  appear  immense,  but  the  estimate  upon  which 
it  is  calculated  gave  a  result  in  all  probability  far 
inferior  to  the  truth.  At  all  events  I  undoubtedly 
beheld  the  whole  of  the  earth's  major  diameter;  the 
entire  northern  hemisphere  lay  beneath  me  like  a 
chart  orthographically  projected:  and  the  great 

74 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

circle  of  the  equator  itself  formed  the  boundary  line 
of  my  horizon.  Your  Excellencies  may,  however, 
readily  imagine  that  the  confined  regions  hitherto 
unexplored  within  the  limits  of  the  Arctic  circle,  al 
though  situated  directly  beneath  me,  and  therefore 
seen  without  any  appearance  of  being  foreshort 
ened,  were  still,  in  themselves,  comparatively  too 
diminutive,  and  at  too  great  a  distance  from  the 
point  of  sight,  to  admit  of  any  very  accurate  ex 
amination.  Nevertheless,  what  could  be  seen  was  of 
a  nature  singular  and  exciting.  Northwardly  from 
that  huge  rim  before  mentioned,  and  which,  with 
slight  qualification,  may  be  called  the  limit  of  human 
discovery  in  these  regions,  one  unbroken,  or  nearly 
unbroken,  sheet  of  ice  continues  to  extend.  In  the 
first  few  degrees  of  this,  its  progress,  its  surface  is 
very  sensibly  flattened,  farther  on  depressed  into  a 
plane,  and  finally,  becoming  NOT  A  LITTLE  CONCAVE, 
it  terminates,  at  the  pole  itself,  in  a  circular  center, 
sharply  defined,  whose  apparent  diameter  subtended 
at  the  balloon  an  angle  of  about  sixty-five  seconds, 
and  whose  dusky  hue,  varying  in  intensity,  was,  at 
all  times,  darker  than  any  other  spot  upon  the  visible 
hemisphere,  and  occasionally  deepened  into  the  most 
absolute  blackness.  Further  than  this,  little  could 
be  ascertained.  By  twelve  o'clock  the  circular  center 
had  materially  decreased  in  circumference,  and  by 
seven  P.  M.  I  lost  sight  of  it  entirely,  the  balloon  pass 
ing  over  the  western  limb  of  the  ice,  and  floating 
away  rapidly  in  the  direction  of  the  equator. 

11  April  8th.     Found  a  sensible  diminution  in  the 

75 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

earth's  apparent  diameter,  besides  a  material  altera 
tion  in  its  general  color  and  appearance.  The  whole 
visible  area  partook  in  different  degrees  of  a  tint 
of  pale  yellow,  and  in  some  portions  had  acquired  a 
brilliancy  even  painful  to  the  eye.  My  view  down 
ward  was  also  considerably  impeded  by  the  dense 
atmosphere  in  the  vicinity  of  the  surface  being  loaded 
with  clouds,  between  whose  masses  I  could  only  now 
and  then  obtain  a  glimpse  of  the  earth  itself.  This 
difficulty  of  direct  vision  had  troubled  me  more  or 
less  for  the  last  forty-eight  hours;  but  my  present 
enormous  elevation  brought  closer  together,  as  it  were, 
the  floating  bodies  of  vapor,  and  the  inconvenience 
became,  of  course,  more  and  more  palpable  in  pro 
portion  to  my  ascent.  Nevertheless,  I  could  easily 
perceive  that  the  balloon  now  hovered  above  the 
range  of  great  lakes  in  the  continent  of  North 
America,  and  was  holding  a  course  due  south,  which 
would  soon  bring  me  to  the  tropics.  This  circum 
stance  did  not  fail  to  give  me  the  most  heartfelt 
satisfaction,  and  I  hailed  it  as  a  happy  omen  of 
ultimate  success.  Indeed,  the  direction  I  had  hitherto 
taken  had  filled  me  with  uneasiness;  for  it  was  evi 
dent  that,  had  I  continued  it  much  longer,  there 
would  have  been  no  possibility  of  my  arriving  at 
the  moon  at  all,  whose  orbit  is  inclined  to  the  ecliptic 
at  only  the  small  angle  of  5°  8'  48".  Strange  as  it 
may  seem,  it  was  only  at  this  late  period  that  I  be 
gan  to  understand  the  great  error  I  had  committed, 
in  not  taking  my  departure  from  earth  at  some  point 

IN  THE  PLANE  OF  THE  LUNAR   ELLIPSE. 

76 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 


"April  9th.  To-day  the  earth's  diameter  was 
greatly  diminished,  and  the  color  of  the  surface  as 
sumed  hourly  a  deeper  tint  of  yellow.  The  balloon 
kept  steadily  on  her  course  to  the  southward,  and 
arrived,  at  nine  P.  M.,  over  the  northern  edge  of  the 
Mexican  Gulf. 

"April  10th.  I  was  suddenly  aroused  from  slum 
ber  about  five  o'clock  this  morning,  by  a  loud, 
crackling,  and  terrific  sound,  for  which  I  could  in  no 
manner  account.  It  was  of  very  brief  duration,  but, 
while  it  lasted,  resembled  nothing  in  the  world  of 
which  I  had  any  previous  experience.  It  is  needless 
to  say  that  I  became  excessively  alarmed,  having,  in 
the  first  instance,  attributed  the  noise  to  the  burst 
ing  of  the  balloon.  I  examined  all  my  apparatus, 
however,  with  great  attention,  and  could  discover 
nothing  out  of  order.  Spent  a  great  part  of  the  day 
in  meditating  upon  an  occurrence  so  extraordinary, 
but  could  find  no  means  whatever  of  accounting  for 
it.  Went  to  bed  dissatisfied  and  in  a  state  of  great 
anxiety  and  agitation. 

"April  llth.  Found  a  startling  diminution  in  the 
apparent  diameter  of  the  earth,  and  a  considerable 
increase,  now  observable  for  the  first  time,  in  that 
of  the  moon  itself,  which  wanted  only  a  few  days  of 
being  full.  It  now  required  long  and  excessive  labor 
to  condense  within  the  chamber  sufficient  atmospheric 
air  for  the  sustenance  of  life. 

"April  12th.  A  singular  alteration  took  place  in 
regard  to  the  direction  of  the  balloon,  and,  although 
fully  anticipated,  afforded  me  the  most  unequivocal 


. 


d 


77 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

delight.  Having  reached,  in  its  former  course,  about 
the  twentieth  parallel  of  southern  latitude,  it  turned 
off  suddenly,  at  an  acute  angle,  to  the  eastward,  and 
thus  proceeded  throughout  the  day,  keeping  nearly, 
if  not  altogether,  in  the  exact  plane  of  the  lunar 
ellipse.  What  was  worthy  of  remark,  a  very  per 
ceptible  vacillation  in  the  car  was  a  consequence  of 
this  change  of  route, —  a  vacillation  which  prevailed, 
in  a  more  or  less  degree,  for  a  period  of  many 
hours. 

"April  13th.  Was  again  very  much  alarmed  by 
a  repetition  of  the  loud,  crackling  noise  which  terri 
fied  me  on  the  tenth.  Thought  long  upon  the  sub 
ject,  but  was  unable  to  form  any  satisfactory  con 
clusion.  Great  decrease  in  the  earth's  apparent 
diameter,  which  now  subtended  from  the  balloon  an 
angle  of  very  little  more  than  twenty-five  degrees. 
The  moon  could  not  be  seen  at  all,  being  nearly  in 
my  zenith.  I  still  continued  in  the  plane  of  the 
ellipse,  but  made  little  progress  to  the  eastward. 

"April  14th.  Extremely  rapid  decrease  in  the 
diameter  of  the  earth.  To-day  I  became  strongly  im 
pressed  with  the  idea  that  the  balloon  was  now 
actually  running  up  the  line  of  apsides  to  the  point 
of  perigee, —  in  other  words,  holding  the  direct  course 
which  would  bring  it  immediately  to  the  moon  in 
that  part  of  its  orbit  the  nearest  to  the  earth.  The 
moon  itself  was  directly  overhead  and  consequently 
hidden  from  my  view.  Great  and  long-continued 
labor  necessary  for  the  condensation  of  the  atmos 
phere. 

78 


n 


ADVENTURE  ttANS    PFAALL 

"April  15th.  Not  even  the  outlines  of  continents 
and  seas  could  now  be  traced  upon  the  earth  with 
distinctness.  About  twelve  o'clock  I  became  aware, 
for  the  third  time,  of  that  appalling  sound  which 
had  so  astonished  me  before.  It  now,  however,  con 
tinued  for  some  moments  and  gathered  intensity  as 
it  continued.  At  length,  while  stupefied  and  terror- 
stricken,  I  stood  in  expectation  of  I  knew  not  what 
hideous  destruction,  the  car  vibrated  with  excessive 
violence,  and  a  gigantic  and  flaming  mass  of  some  ma 
terial  which  I  could  not  distinguish  came  with  a  voice 
of  a  thousand  thunders,  roaring  and  booming  by  the 
balloon.  When  my  fears  and  astonishment  had  in 
some  degree  subsided,  I  had  little  difficulty  in  sup 
posing  it  to  be  some  mighty  volcanic  fragment 
ejected  from  that  world  to  which  I  was  so  rapidly 
approaching,  and,  in  all  probability,  one  of  that 
singular  class  of  substances  occasionally  picked  up 
on  the  earth,  and  termed  meteoric  stones  for  want  of 
a  better  appellation. 

11  April  16th.  To-day,  looking  upward  as  well  as 
I  could,  through  each  of  the  side  windows  alternately, 
I  beheld,  to  my  great  delight,  a  very  small  portion 
of  the  moon's  disk  protruding,  as  it  were,  on  all 
sides  beyond  the  huge  circumference  of  the  balloon. 
My  agitation  was  extreme ;  for  I  had  now  little  doubt 
of  soon  reaching  the  end  of  my  perilous  voyage.  In 
deed,  the  labor  now  required  by  the  condenser  had 
increased  to  a  most  oppressive  degree,  and  allowed 
me  scarcely  any  respite  from  exertion.  Sleep  was  a 
matter  nearly  out  of  the  question.  I  became  quite 

79 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

ill,  and  my  frame  trembled  with  exhaustion.  It  was 
impossible  that  human  nature  could  endure  this  state 
of  intense  suffering  much  longer.  During  the  now 
brief  interval  of  darkness  a  meteoric  stone  again 
passed  in  my  vicinity,  and  the  frequency  of  these 
phenomena  began  to  occasion  me  much  apprehension. 
"April  17th.  This  morning  proved  an  epoch  in  my 
voyage.  It  will  be  remembered  that,  on  the  thir 
teenth,  the  earth  subtended  an  angular  breadth  of 
twenty-five  degrees.  On  the  fourteenth  this  had 
greatly  diminished;  on  the  fifteenth  a  still  more  re 
markable  decrease  was  observable;  and,  on  retiring 
for  the  night  of  the  sixteenth,  I  had  noticed  an  angle 
of  no  more  than  about  seven  degrees  and  fifteen 
minutes.  What,  therefore,  must  have  been  my 
amazement,  on  awakening  from  a  brief  and  disturbed 
slumber  on  the  morning  of  this  day,  the  seventeenth, 
at  finding  the  surface  beneath  me  so  suddenly  and 
wonderfully  AUGMENTED  in  volume  as  to  subtend  no 
less  than  thirty-nine  degrees  in  apparent  angular 
diameter !  I  was  thunderstruck !  No  words  can  give 
any  adequate  idea  of  the  extreme,  the  absolute  horror 
and  astonishment,  with  which  I  was  seized,  possessed, 
and  altogether  overwhelmed.  My  knees  tottered 
beneath  me, —  my  teeth  chattered, —  my  hair  started 
up  on  end.  'The  balloon,  then,  had  actually  burst!' 
These  were  the  first  tumultuous  ideas  that  hurried 
through  my  mind :  '  The  balloon  had  positively  burst ! 
-I  was  falling, —  falling  with  the  most  impetuous, 
the  most  unparalleled  velocity!  To  judge  by  the  im 
mense  distance  already  so  quickly  passed  over,  it 


80 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

could  not  be  more  than  ten  minutes,  at  the  farthest, 
before  I  should  reach  the  surface  of  the  earth  and  be 
hurled  into  annihilation!7  But  at  length  reflection 
came  to  my  relief.  I  paused;  I  considered;  and  I 
began  to  doubt.  The  matter  was  impossible.  I  could 
not  in  any  reason  have  so  rapidly  come  down. 
Besides,  although  I  was  evidently  approaching  the 
surface  below  me,  it  was  with  a  speed  by  no  means 
commensurate  with  the  velocity  I  had  at  first  con 
ceived.  This  consideration  served  to  calm  the  per 
turbation  of  my  mind,  and  I  finally  succeeded  in  re 
garding  the  phenomenon  in  its  proper  point  of  view. 
In  fact,  amazement  must  have  fairly  deprived  me 
of  my  senses  when  I  could  not  see  the  vast  difference 
in  appearance  between  the  surface  below  me  and  the 
surface  of  my  mother  earth.  The  latter  was  indeed 
over  my  head  and  completely  hidden  by  the  bal 
loon,  while  the  moon  —  the  moon  itself  in  all  its 
glory  —  lay  beneath  me  and  at  my  feet. 

"The  stupor  and  surprise  produced  in  my  mind 
by  this  extraordinary  change  in  the  posture  of  af 
fairs,  was,  perhaps,  after  all,  that  part  of  the  ad 
venture  least  susceptible  of  explanation.  For  the 
bouleversement  in  itself  was  not  only  natural  and 
inevitable,  but  had  been  long  actually  anticipated  as 
a  circumstance  to  be  expected  whenever  I  should  ar 
rive  at  that  exact  point  of  my  voyage  where  the  at 
traction  of  the  planet  should  be  superseded  by  the 
attraction  of  the  satellite,  or,  more  precisely,  where 
the  gravitation  of  the  balloon  toward  the  earth  should 
be  less  powerful  than  its  gravitation  toward  the 

i—6  81 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

moon.  To  be  sure,  I  arose  from  a  sound  slumber, 
with  all  my  senses  in  confusion,  to  the  contemplation 
of  a  very  startling  phenomenon,  and  one  which,  al 
though  expected,  was  not  expected  at  the  moment. 
The  revolution  itself  must,  of  course,  have  taken 
place  in  an  easy  and  gradual  manner,  and  it  is  by  no 
means  clear  that,  had  I  even  been  awake  at  the  time 
of  the  occurrence,  I  should  have  been  made  aware  of 
it  by  any  internal  evidence  of  an  inversion, —  that  is 
to  say,  by  any  inconvenience  or  disarrangement, 
either  about  my  person  or  about  my  apparatus. 

41  It  is  almost  needless  to  say  that,  upon  coming 
to  a  due  sense  of  my  situation,  and  emerging  from 
the  terror  which  had  absorbed  every  faculty  of  my 
soul,  my  attention  was,  in  the  first  place,  wholly 
directed  to  the  contemplation  of  the  general  physical 
appearance  of  the  moon.  It  lay  beneath  me  like 
a  chart,  and,  although  I  judged  it  to  be  still  at  no 
inconsiderable  distance,  the  indentures  of  its  surface 
were  defined  to  my  vision  with  a  most  striking  and 
altogether  unaccountable  distinctness.  The  entire 
absence  of  ocean  or  sea,  and  indeed  of  any  lake  or 
river,  or  body  of  water  whatsoever,  struck  me,  at 
first  glance,  as  the  most  extraordinary  feature  in  its 
geological  condition.  Yet,  strange  to  say,  I  beheld 
vast  level  regions  of  a  character  decidedly  alluvial,  al 
though  by  far  the  greater  portion  of  the  hemisphere 
in  sight  was  covered  with  innumerable  volcanic 
mountains,  conical  in  shape,  and  having  more  the  ap 
pearance  of  artificial  than  of  natural  protuberances. 
The  highest  among  them  does  not  exceed  three  and 

82 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

three-quarter  miles  in  perpendicular  elevation;  but 
a  map  of  the  volcanic  districts  of  the  Campi  Phlegrsei 
would  afford  to  your  Excellencies  a  better  idea  of 
their  general  surface  than  any  unworthy  description 
I  might  think  proper  to  attempt.  The  greater  part 
of  them  were  in  a  state  of  evident  eruption,  and  gave 
me  fearfully  to  understand  their  fury  and  their 
power  by  the  repeated  thunders  of  the  miscalled 
meteoric  stones,  which  now  rushed  upward  by  the 
balloon  with  a  frequency  more  and  more  appalling. 
11  April  18th.  To-day  I  found  an  enormous  in 
crease  in  the  moon's  apparent  bulk;  and  the  evi 
dently  accelerated  velocity  of  my  descent  began  to 
fill  me  with  alarm.  It  will  be  remembered  that,  in 
the  earliest  stage  of  my  speculations  upon  the  pos 
sibility  of  a  passage  to  the  moon,  the  existence  in 
its  vicinity  of  an  atmosphere,  dense  in  proportion  to 
the  bulk  of  the  planet,  had  entered  largely  into  my 
calculations;  this,  too,  in  spite  of  many  theories  to 
the  contrary  and,  it  may  be  added,  in  spite  of  a 
general  disbelief  in  the  existence  of  any  lunar  atmos 
phere  at  all.  But,  in  addition  to  what  I  have  al 
ready  urged  in  regard  to  Encke's  comet  and  the 
zodiacal  light,  I  had  been  strengthened  in  my  opinion 
by  certain  observations  of  Mr.  Schroeter  of  Lilienthal. 
He  observed  the  moon  when  two  days  and  a  half 
old,  in  the  evening  soon  after  sunset,  before  the  dark 
part  was  visible,  and  continued  to  watch  it  until 
it  became  visible.  The  two  cusps  appeared  tapering 
in  a  very  sharp,  faint  prolongation,  each  exhibiting 
its  farthest  extremity  faintly  illuminated  by  the  solar 

83 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

rays  before  any  part  of  the  dark  hemisphere  was 
visible.  Soon  afterward,  the  whole  dark  limb  became 
illuminated.  This  prolongation  of  the  cusps  beyond 
the  semicircle,  I  thought,  must  have  arisen  from  the 
refraction  of  the  sun's  rays  by  the  moon's  atmos 
phere.  I  computed,  also,  the  height  of  the  atmos 
phere  (which  could  refract  light  enough  into  its  dark 
hemisphere  to  produce  a  twilight  more  luminous  than 
the  light  reflected  from  the  earth  when  the  moon  is 
about  32°  from  the  new)  to  be  1,356  Paris  feet;  in 
this  view  I  supposed  the  greatest  height  capable  of 
refracting  the  solar  ray  to  be  5,376  feet.  My  ideas 
on  this  topic  had  also  received  confirmation  by  a 
passage  in  the  eighty-second  volume  of  the  Philosoph 
ical  Transactions  in  which  it  is  stated  that,  at  an 
occultation  of  Jupiter's  satellites,  the  third  disap 
peared  after  having  been  about  one  or  two  seconds 
of  time  indistinct,  and  the  fourth  became  indis 
cernible  near  the  limb.* 


*  Hevelius  writes  that  he  has  several  times  found,  in 
skies  perfectly  clear,  when  even  stars  of  the  sixth  and  seventh 
magnitude  were  conspicuous,  that,  at  the  same  altitude  of 
the  moon,  at  the  same  elongation  from  the  earth,  and  with 
one  and  the  same  excellent  telescope,  the  moon  and  its 
maculge  did  not  appear  equally  lucid  at  all  times.  From  the 
circumstances  of  the  observation,  it  is  evident  that  the  cause 
of  this  phenomenon  is  not  either  in  our  air,  in  the  tube,  in 
the  moon,  or  in  the  eye  of  the  spectator,  but  must  be  looked 
for  in  something  (an  atmosphere?)  existing  about  the  moon. 

Cassini  frequently  observed  Saturn,  Jupiter,  and  the  fixed 
stars,  when  approaching  the  moon  to  occultation,  to  have  their 
circular  figure  changed  into  an  oval  one;  and,  in  other  occulta- 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

"Upon  the  resistance  or,  more  properly,  upon  the 
support  of  an  atmosphere,  existing  in  the  state  of 
density  imagined,  I  had,  of  course,  entirely  depended 
for  the  safety  of  my  ultimate  descent.  Should  I 
then,  after  all,  prove  to  have  been  mistaken,  I  had 
in  consequence  nothing  better  to  expect,  as  a  finale 
to  my  adventure,  than  being  dashed  "into  atoms 
against  the  rugged  surface  of  the  satellite.  And,  in 
deed,  I  had  now  every  reason  to  be  terrified.  My 
distance  from  the  moon  was  comparatively  trifling, 
while  the  labor  required  by  the  condenser  was 
diminished  not  at  all,  and  I  could  discover  no  in 
dication  whatever  of  a  decreasing  rarity  in  the  air. 

"April  19th.  This  morning,  to  my  great  joy, 
about  nine  o'clock,  the  surface  of  the  moon  being 
frightfully  near  and  my  apprehensions  excited  to 
the  utmost,  the  pump  of  my  condenser  at  length  gave 
evident  tokens  of  an  alteration  in  the  atmosphere. 
By  ten,  I  had  reason  to  believe  its  density  consider 
ably  increased.  By  eleven,  very  little  labor  was 
necessary  at  the  apparatus;  and  at  twelve  o'clock, 
with  some  hesitation,  I  ventured  to  unscrew  the 
tourniquet,  when,  finding  no  inconvenience  from 
having  done  so,  I  finally  threw  open  the  gum-elastic 
chamber  and  unrigged  it  from  around  the  car.  As 
might  have  been  expected,  spasms  and  violent  head 
ache  were  the  immediate  consequences  of  an  experi- 

tions,  he  found  no  alteration  of  figure  at  all.  Hence  it  might 
be  supposed  that  at  some  times,  and  not  at  others,  there  is 
a  dense  matter  encompassing  the  moon  wherein  the  rays  of 
the  stars  are  refracted. 

85 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

ment  so  precipitate  and  full  of  danger.  But  these 
and  other  difficulties  attending  respiration,  as  they 
were  by  no  means  so  great  as  to  put  me  in  peril  of 
my  life,  I  determined  to  endure  as  I  best  could,  in 
consideration  of  my  leaving  them  behind  me  mo 
mently  in  my  approach  to  the  denser  STRATA  near 
the  moon.  This  approach,  however,  was  still  im 
petuous  in  the  extreme;  and  it  soon  became  alarm 
ingly  certain  that,  although  I  had  probably  not  been 
deceived  in  the  expectation  of  an  atmosphere  dense 
in  proportion  to  the  mass  of  the  satellite,  still  I  had 
been  wrong  in  supposing  this  density,  even  at  the 
surface,  at  all  adequate  to  the  support  of  the  great 
weight  contained  in  the  car  of  my  balloon.  Yet 
this  should  have  been  the  case,  and  in  an  equal  de 
gree  as  at  the  surface  of  the  earth,  the  actual  gravity 
of  bodies  at  either  planet  supposed  in  the  ratio  of  the 
atmospheric  condensation.  That  it  WAS  NOT  the  case, 
however,  my  precipitous  downfall  gave  testimony 
enough ;  WHY  it  was  not  so,  can  only  be  explained  by 
a  reference  to  those  possible  geological  disturbances 
to  which  I  have  formerly  alluded.  At  all  events  I 
was  now  close  upon  the  planet,  and  coming  down 
with  the  most  terrible  impetuosity.  I  lost  not  a  mo 
ment,  accordingly,  in  throwing  overboard  first  my 
ballast,  then  my  water-kegs,  then  my  condensing  ap 
paratus  and  gum-elastic  chamber,  and  finally  every 
article  within  the  car.  But  it  was  all  to  no  purpose. 
I  still  fell  with  horrible  rapidity,  and  was  now  not 
more  than  half  a  mile  from  the  surface.  As  a  last  re 
source,  therefore,  having  got  rid  of  my  coat,  hat, 

86 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

and  boots,  I  cut  loose  from  the  balloon  THE  CAR 
ITSELF,  which  was  of  no  inconsiderable  weight,  and 
thus,  clinging  with  both  hands  to  the  network,  I 
had  barely  time  to  observe  that  the  whole  country, 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  was  thickly  inter 
spersed  with  diminutive  habitations,  ere  I  tumbled 
headlong  into  the  very  heart  of  a  fantastical-looking 
city,  and  into  the  middle  of  a  vast  crowd  of  ugly 
Little  people,  who  none  of  them  uttered  a  single 
syllable  or  gave  themselves  the  least  trouble  to  render 
me  assistance,  but  stood,  like  a  parcel  of  idiots,  grin 
ning  in  a  ludicrous  manner,  and  eyeing  me  and  my 
balloon  askant,  with  their  arms  set  akimbo.  I  turned 
from  them  in  contempt,  and,  gazing  upward  at  the 
earth  so  lately  left,  and  left  perhaps  forever,  beheld 
it  like  a  huge,  dull,  copper  shield,  about  two  degrees 
in  diameter,  fixed  immovably  in  the  heavens  over 
head,  and  tipped  on  one  of  its  edges  with  a  crescent 
border  of  the  most  brilliant  gold.  No  traces  of  land 
or  water  could  be  discovered,  and  the  whole  was 
clouded  with  variable  spots  and  belted  with  tropical 
and  equatorial  zones. 

1  'Thus,  may  it  please  yous  Excellencies,  after  a 
series  of  great  anxieties,  unheard-of  dangers,  and 
unparalleled  escapes,  I  had  at  length,  on  the  nine 
teenth  day  of  my  departure  from  Rotterdam,  arrived 
in  safety  at  the  conclusion  of  a  voyage  undoubtedly 
the  most  extraordinary  and  the  most  momentous  ever 
accomplished,  undertaken,  or  conceived  by  any 
denizen  of  earth.  But  my  adventures  yet  remain  to 
be  related.  And  indeed  your  Excellencies  may  well 

87 


a 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

imagine  that,  after  a  residence  of  five  years  upon  a 
planet  not  only  deeply  interesting  in  its  own  peculiar 
character,  but  rendered  doubly  so  by  its  intimate 
connection,  in  capacity  of  satellite,  with  the  world 
inhabited  by  man,  I  may  have  intelligence  for  the 
private  ear  of  the  States'  College  of  Astronomers  of 
far  more  importance  than  the  details,  however 
wonderful,  of  the  mere  voyage  which  so  happily  con 
cluded.  This  is,  in  fact,  the  case.  I  have  much  — 
very  much  which  it  would  give  me  the  greatest 
pleasure  to  communicate.  I  have  much  to  say  of  the 
climate  of  the  planet;  of  its  wonderful  alternations 
of  heat  and  cold;  of  unmitigated  and  burning  sun 
shine  for  one  fortnight,  and  more  than  polar  frigidity 
for  the  next;  of  a  constant  transfer  of  moisture,  by 
distillation  like  that  in  vacuo,  from  the  point  beneath 
the  sun  to  the  point  the  farthest  from  it;  of  a 
variable  zone  of  running  water;  of  the  people  them 
selves  ;  of  their  manners,  customs,  and  political  in 
stitutions  ;  of  their  peculiar  physical  construction ;  of 
their  ugliness ;  of  their  want  of  ears,  those  useless 
appendages  in  an  atmosphere  so  peculiarly  modified; 
of  their  consequent  ignorance  of  the  use  and  prop 
erties  of  speech;  of  their  substitute  for  speech  in  a 
singular  method  of  intercommunication;  of  the  in 
comprehensible  connection  between  each  particular 
individual  in  the  moon  with  some  particular  indi 
vidual  on  the  earth  —  a  connection  analogus  with, 
and  depending  upon,  that  of  the  orbs  of  the  planet 
and  the  satellite,  and  by  means  of  which  the  lives 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

and  destinies  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  one  are  inter 
woven  with  the  lives  and  destinies  of  the  inhabi 
tants  of  the  other;  and  above  all,  if  it  so  please  your 
Excellencies, —  above  all,  of  those  dark  and  hideous 
mysteries  which  lie  in  the  outer  regions  of  the  moon, 
—  regions  which,  owing  to  the  almost  miraculous  ac 
cordance  of  the  satellite's  rotation  on  its  own  axis 
with  its  sidereal  revolution  about  the  earth,  have 
never  yet  been  turned,  and,  by  God's  mercy,  never 
shall  be  turned,  to  the  scrutiny  of  the  telescopes  of 
man.  All  this,  and  more  —  much  more  —  would  I 
most  willingly  detail.  But,  to  be  brief,  I  must  have 
my  reward. 

"I  am  pining  for  a  return  to  my  family  and  to 
my  home ;  and  as  the  price  of  any  further  communica 
tion  on  my  part,  in  consideration  of  the  light  which 
I  have  it  in  my  power  to  throw  upon  many  very 
important  branches  of  physical  and  metaphysical 
science,  I  must  solicit,  through  the  influence  of  your 
honorable  body,  a  pardon  for  the  crime  of  which  I 
have  been  guilty  in  the  death  of  the  creditors  upon 
my  departure  from  Rotterdam.  This,  then,  is  the 
object  of  the  present  paper.  Its  bearer,  an  inhabit 
ant  of  the  moon,  whom  I  have  pervailed  upon,  and 
properly  instructed,  to  be  my  messenger  to  the  earth, 
will  await  your  Excellencies'  pleasure  and  return  to 
me  with  the  pardon  in  question,  if  it  can,  in  any 
manner,  be  obtained. 

"I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc.,  your  Excellencies' 
very  humble  servant,  HANS  PFAALL.  : 

89 


?  7 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

Upon  finishing  the  perusal  of  this  very  extraordi 
nary  document,  Professor  Rubadub,  it  is  said, 
dropped  his  pipe  upon  the  ground  in  the  extremity 
of  his  surprise,  and  Mynheer  Superbus  Von  Under- 
duk,  having  taken  off  his  spectacles,  wiped  them,  and 
deposited  them  in  his  pocket,  so  far  forgot  both  him 
self  and  his  dignity  as  to  turn  round  three  times  upon 
his  heel  in  the  quintessence  of  astonishment  and  ad 
miration.  There  was  no  doubt  about  the  matter  — 
the  pardon  should  be  obtained.  So  at  least  swore, 
with  a  round  oath,  Professor  Rubadub,  and  so  finally 
thought  the  illustrious  Von  Underduk,  as  he  took 
the  arm  of  his  brother  in  science,  and  without  saying 
a  word  began  to  make  the  best  of  his  way  home  to 
deliberate  upon  the  measures  to  be  adopted.  Having 
reached  the  door,  however,  of  the  burgomaster's 
dwelling,  the  professor  ventured  to  suggest  that  as 
the  messenger  had  thought  proper  to  disappear  —  no 
doubt  frightened  to  death  by  the  savage  appearance 
of  the  burghers  of  Rotterdam  —  the  pardon  would 
be  of  little  use,  as  no  one  but  a  man  of  the  moon 
would  undertake  a  voyage  to  so  vast  a  distance.  To 
the  truth  of  this  observation  the  burgomaster  as 
sented,  and  the  matter  was  therefore  at  an  end.  Not 
so,  however,  rumors  and  speculations.  The  letter, 
having  been  published,  gave  rise  to  a  variety  of 
gossip  and  opinion.  Some  of  the  overwise  even  made 
themselves  ridiculous  by  decrying  the  whole  busi 
ness  as  nothing  better  than  a  hoax.  But  "hoax," 
with  this  sort  of  people  is,  I  believe,  a  general  term 

90 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

for  all  matters  above  their  comprehension.  For  my 
part,  I  cannot  conceive  upon  what  data  they  have 
founded  such  an  accusation.  Let  us  see  what  they 
say: 

Imprimis.  That  certain  wags  in  Rotterdam  have 
certain  especial  antipathies  to  certain  burgomasters 
and  astronomers. 

Secondly.  That  an  odd  little  dwarf  and  bottle 
conjurer,  both  of  whose  ears,  for  some  misdemeanor, 
have  been  cut  off  close  to  his  head,  has  been  missing 
for  several  days  from  the  neighboring  city  of  Bruges. 

Thirdly.  That  the  newspapers  which  were  stuck 
all  over  the  little  balloon  were  newspapers  of  Holland, 
and  therefore  could  not  have  been  made  in  the  moon. 
They  were  dirty  papers  —  very  dirty  —  and  Gluck, 
the  printer,  would  take  his  Bible  oath  to  their  having 
been  printed  in  Rotterdam. 

Fourthly.  That  Hans  Pfaall  himself,  the  drunken 
villain,  and  the  three  very  idle  gentlemen  styled  his 
creditors,  were  all  seen,  no  longer  than  two  or  three 
days  ago,  in  a  tippling  house  in  the  suburbs,  having 
just  returned,  with  money  in  their  pockets,  from  a 
Crip  beyond  the  sea. 

Lastly.  That  it  is  an  opinion  very  generally  re 
ceived,  or  which  ought  to  be  generally  received,  that 
the  College  of  Astronomers  in  the  city  of  Rotterdam, 
as  well  as  all  other  colleges  in  all  other  parts  of  the 
vvorld,  not  to  mention  colleges  and  astronomers  in 
general,  are,  to  say  the  least  of  the  matter,  not  a  whit 
better,  nor  greater,  nor  wiser  than  they  ought  to  be. 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

Note.—  Strictly  speaking,  there  is  but  little  similarity  be 
tween  the  above  sketchy  trifle  and  the  celebrated  "Moon 
Story "  of  Mr.  Locke;  but  as  both  have  the  character  of 
hoaxes  (although,  the  one  is  in  a  tone  of  banter,  the  other 
of  downright  earnest),  and  as  both  hoaxes  are  on  the  same 
subject,  the  moon, —  moreover,  as  both  attempt  to  give 
plausibility  by  scientific  detail, —  the  author  of  Hans  Pfaall 
thinks  it  necessary  to  say,  IN  SELF-DEFENCE,  that  his  own 
je>,  d'esprit  was  published  in  the  Southern  Literary  Messenger 
about  three  weeks  before  the  commencement  of  Mr.  L.'s  in 
the  New  York  Sun.  Fancying  a  likeness  which,  perhaps,  does 
not  exist,  some  of  the  New  York  papers  copied  Hans  PfaaU 
and  collated  it  with  the  "Moon  Hoax,"  by  way  of  detecting 
the  writer  of  the  one  in  the  writer  of  the  other. 

As  many  more  persons  were  actually  gulled  by  the  "Moon 
Hoax"  than  would  be  willing  to  acknowledge  the  fact,  it 
may  here  afford  some  little  amusement  to  show  why  no  one 
should  have  been  deceived  —  to  point  out  those  particulars 
of  the  story  which  should  have  been  sufficient  to  establish 
its  real  character.  Indeed,  however  rich  the  imagination  dis 
played  in  this  ingenious  fiction,  it  wanted  much  of  the  force 
which  might  have  been  given  it  by  a  more  scrupulous  atten 
tion  to  facts  and  to  general  analogy.  That  the  public  were 
misled,  even  for  an  instant,  merely  proves  the  gross  ignorance 
which  is  so  generally  prevalent  upon  subjects  of  an  astronom 
ical  nature. 

The  moon's  distance  from  the  earth  is,  in  round  numbers, 
240,000  miles.  If  we  desire  to  ascertain  how  near,  apparently, 
a  lens  would  bring  the  satellite  (or  any  distant  object),  we  of 
course  have  but  to  divide  the  distance  by  the  magnifying  or, 
more  strictly,  by  the  space-penetrating  power  of  the  glass. 
Mr.  L.  makes  his  lens  have  a  power  of  42,000  times.  By  this 
divide  240,000  (the  moon's  real  distance),  and  we  have  five 
miles  and  five  sevenths  as  the  apparent  distance.  No  animal 
at  all  could  be  seen  so  far;  much  less  the  minute  points  par 
ticularized  in  the  story.  Mr.  L.  speaks  about  Sir  John  Her- 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 


schel's  perceiving  flowers  (the  Papaver  rlioeas,  etc.),  and  even 
detecting  the  color  and  the  shape  of  the  eyes  of  small  birds. 
Shortly  before,  too,  he  has  himself  observed  that  the  lens 
would  not  render  perceptible  objects  of  less  than  eighteen 
inches  in  diameter;  but  even  this,  as  I  have  said,  is  giving 
the  glass  by  far  too  great  power.  It  may  be  observed,  in 
passing,  that  this  prodigious  glass  is  said  to  have  been  moulded 
at  the  glass-house  of  Messrs.  Hartley  and  Grant,  in  Dumbar 
ton;  but  Messrs.  H.  and  Or.  's  establishment  had  ceased  opera 
tions  for  many  years  previous  to  the  publication  of  the  hoax. 

On  page  13,  pamphlet  edition,  speaking  of  "a  hairy  veil" 
over  the  eyes  of  a  species  of  bison,  the  author  says:  "It  im 
mediately  occurred  to  the  acute  mind  of  Dr.  Herschel  that  this 
was  a  providential  contrivance  to  protect  the  eyes  of  the  ani 
mal  from  the  great  extremes  of  light  and  darkness  to  which 
all  the  inhabitants  of  our  side  of  the  moon  are  periodically 
subjected."  But  this  cannot  be  thought  a  very  "acute" 
observation  of  the  Doctor's.  The  inhabitants  of  our  side  of 
the  moon  have,  evidently,  no  darkness  at  all,  so  there  can  be 
nothing  of  the  "extremes"  mentioned.  In  the  absence  of 
the  sun  they  have  a  light  from  the  earth  equal  to  that  of  thir 
teen  full  unclouded  moons. 

The  topography  throughout,  even  when  professing  to  ac 
cord  with  Blunt 's  Lunar  Chart,  is  entirely  at  variance  with 
that  or  any  other  lunar  chart,  and  even  grossly  at  variance 
with  itself.  The  points  of  the  compass,  too,  are  in  inextricable 
confusion;  the  writer  appearing  to  be  ignorant  that,  on  a 
lunar  map,  these  are  not  in  accordance  with  terrestrial  points, 
the  east  being  to  the  left,  etc. 

Deceived,  perhaps,  by  the  vague  titles,  Mare  Nubium,  Mare 
Tranquillitatis,  Mare  Fcecunditatis,  etc.,  given  to  the  dark 
spots  by  former  astronomers,  Mr.  L.  has  entered  into  details 
regarding  oceans  and  other  large  bodies  of  water  in  the  moon; 
whereas  there  is  no  astronomical  point  more  positively  ascer 
tained  than  that  no  such  bodies  exist  there.  In  examining 
the  boundary  between  light  and  darkness  (in  the  crescent  or 


93 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

gibbous  moon)  where  this  boundary  crosses  any  of  the  dark 
places,  the  line  of  division  is  found  to  be  rough  and  jagged; 
but  were  these  dark  places  liquid  it  would  evidently  be  even. 

The  description  of  the  wings  of  the  man-bat,  on  page  21, 
is  but  a  literal  copy  of  Peter  Wilkins's  account  of  the  wings 
of  his  flying  islanders.  This  simple  fact  should  have  induced 
suspicion  at  least,  it  might  be  thought. 

On  page  23,  we  have  the  following:  "What  a  prodigious 
influence  must  our  thirteen-times-larger  globe  have  exercised 
upon  this  satellite  when  an  embryo  in  the  womb  of  time,  the 
passive  subject  of  chemical  affinity!"  This  is  very  fine;  but 
it  should  be  observed  that  no  astronomer  would  have  made 
such  a  remark,  especially  to  any  Journal  of  Science;  for  the 
earth,  in  the  sense  intended,  is  not  only  thirteen,  but  forty- 
nine  times  LARGER  than  the  moon.  A  similar  objection  applies 
to  the  whole  of  the  concluding  pages,  where,  by  way  of  intro 
duction  to  some  discoveries  in  Saturn,  the  philosophical  cor 
respondent  enters  into  a  minute  schoolboy  account  of  that 
planet  —  this  to  the  Edinburgh  Journal  of  Science! 

But  there  is  one  point  in  particular  which  should  have  be 
trayed  the  fiction.  Let  us  imagine  the  power  actually  pos 
sessed  of  seeing  animals  upon  the  moon's  surface, —  what 
would  FIRST  arrest  the  attention  of  an  observer  from  the 
earth?  Certainly  neither  their  shape,  size,  nor  any  other  such 
peculiarity,  so  soon  as  their  remarkable  SITUATION.  They 
would  appear  to  be  walking,  with  heels  up  and  head  down,  in 
the  manner  of  flies  on  a  ceiling.  The  real  observer  would  have 
uttered  an  instant  ejaculation  of  surprise,  however  prepared 
by  previous  knowledge,  at  the  singularity  of  their  position; 
the  FICTITIOUS  observer  has  not  even  mentioned  the  subject, 
but  speaks  of  seeing  the  entire  bodies  of  such  creatures,  when 
it  is  demonstrable  that  he  could  have  seen  only  the  diameter 
of  their  heads! 

It  might  as  well  be  remarked,  in  conclusion,  that  the  size, 
and  particularly  the  powers,  of  the  man-bats  (for  example, 
their  ability  to  fly  in  so  rare  an  atmosphere  —  if,  indeed,  the 


94 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

moon  have  any),  with  most  of  the  other  fancies  in  regard  to 
animal  and  vegetable  existence,  are  at  variance,  generally, 
with  all  analogical  reasoning  on  these  themes;  and  that 
analogy  here  will  often  amount  to  conclusive  demonstration. 
It  is,  perhaps,  scarcely  necessary  to  add  that  all  the  sugges 
tions  attributed  to  Brewster  and  Herschel,  in  the  beginning  of 
the  article,  about  "a  transfusion  of  artificial  light  through  the 
focal  object  of  vision,"  etc.,  etc.,  belonging  to  that  species  of 
figurative  writing  which  comes,  most  properly,  under  the  de 
nomination  of  "rigmarole." 

There  is  a  real  and  very  definite  limit  to  optical  dis 
covery  among  the  stars  —  a  limit  whose  nature  need  only  be 
stated  to  be  understood.  If,  indeed,  the  casting  of  large  lenses 
were  all  that  is  required,  man's  ingenuity  would  ultimately 
prove  equal  to  the  task,  and  we  might  have  them  of  any  size 
demanded.  But,  unhappily,  in  proportion  to  the  increase  of 
size  in  the  lens,  and,  consequently,  of  space-penetrating  power, 
is  the  diminution  of  light  from  the  object  by  diffusion  of  its 
rays.  And  for  this  evil  there  is  no  remedy  within  human 
ability;  for  an  object  is  seen  by  means  of  that  light  alone 
which  proceeds  from  itself,  whether  direct  or  reflected. 
Thus  the  only  ' '  AETIFICIAL  "  light  which  could  avail  Mr. 
Locke  would  be  some  artificial  light  which  he  should  be  able 
to  throw,  not  upon  the  "focal  object  of  vision,"  but  upon 
the  real  object  to  be  viewed;  to  wit,  UPON  THE  MOON.  It  has 
been  easily  calculated  that  when  the  light  proceeding  from  a 
star  becomes  so  diffused  as  to  be  as  weak  as  the  natural  light 
proceeding  from  the  whole  of  the  stars,  in  a  clear  and  moon 
less  night,  then  the  star  is  no  longer  visible  for  any  practical 
purpose. 

The  Earl  of  Boss  telescope,  lately  constructed  in  England, 
has  a  SPECULUM  with  a  reflecting  surface  of  4,071  square 
inches;  the  Herschel  telescope  having  one  of  only  1,811.  The 
metal  of  the  Earl  of  Boss's  is  6  feet  diameter;  it  is  5^  inches 
thick  at  the  edges,  and  5  at  the  center.  The  weight  is  3  tons. 
The  focal  length  is  50  feet. 


95 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

I  have  lately  read  a  singular  and  somewhat  ingenious  little 
book,  whose  title-page  runs  thus:  "L'Homme  danes  le  Lvne, 
ou  le  Voyage  Chimerique  fait  au  Monde  de  la  Lvne,  nouuelle- 
ment  decouuert  par  Dominique  Gonzal^s,  Aduanturier  Espag- 
nol,  autrem^t  dit  le  Courier  volant.  Mis  en  notre  langve  par 
J.  B.  D.  a  Paris,  chez  Francois  Piot,  pres  la  Fontaine  de  Saint 
Benoist.  Et  chez  J.  Goignard,  au  premier  pilier  de  la  grand' 
salle  du  Palais,  proche  les  Consultations,  MDCXLVIII."  Pp. 
176. 

The  writer  professes  to  have  translated  his  work  from  the 
English  of  one  Mr.  D'Avisson  (Davidson?),  although  there  is 
a  terrible  ambiguity  in  the  statement.  "I'  en  ai  eu,"  says  he, 
"Foriginal  de  Monsieur  D'Avisson,  me'decin  des  mieux  versez 
qui  soient  aujourd'huy  dans  le  cbnoissance  des  Belles  Lettres, 
et  sur  tout  de  la  Philosophic  Naturelle.  Je  lui  ai  cette  obliga 
tion  entre  les  autres,  de  m'auoir  non  seulement  mis  en  main 
ce  Livre  en  aglois,  mais  encore  le  Manuscrit  du  Sieur  Thomas 
D'Anan,  gentilhomme  Eccossois  recommandable  pour  sa  vertu, 
sur  la  version  duquel  j'advoue  que  j'ay  tire*  le  plan  de  la 
mienne." 

After  some  irrelevant  adventures,  much  in  the  manner  of 
Gil  Bias,  and  which  occupy  the  first  thirty  pages,  the  author 
relates  that,  being  ill  during  a  sea  voyage,  the  crew  abandoned 
him,  together  with  a  negro  servant,  on  the  island  of  St.  Helena. 
To  increase  the  chances  of  obtaining  food,  the  two  separate 
and  live  as  far  apart  as  possible.  This  brings  about  a  training 
of  birds  to  serve  the  purpose  of  carrier-pigeons  between  them. 
By  and  by  these  are  taught  to  carry  parcels  of  some  weight, 
and  this  weight  is  gradually  increased.  At  length  the  idea  is 
entertained  of  uniting  the  force  of  a  great  number  of  the  birds, 
with  a  view  to  raising  the  author  himself.  A  machine  is  con* 
trived  for  the  purpose,  and  we  have  a  minute  description  of 
it,  which  is  materially  helped  out  by  a  steel  engraving.  Here 
we  perceive  the  Signer  Gonzales,  with  point  ruffles  and  a  huge 
periwig,  seated  astride  something  which  resembles  very  closely 
a  broomstick,  and  borne  aloft  by  a  multitude  ot  wild  swans 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

(ganzas)  who  had  strings  reaching  from  their  tails  to  the 
machine. 

The  main  event  detailed  in  the  Signer's  narrative  depends 
upon  a  very  important  fact,  of  which  the  reader  is  kept  in 
ignorance  until  near  the  end  of  the  book.  The  ganzas,  with 
which  he  had  become  so  familiar,  were  not  really  denizens  of 
St.  Helena,  but  of  the  moon.  Thence  it  had  been  their  custom, 
time  out  of  mind,  to  migrate  annually  to  some  portion  of  the 
earth.  In  proper  season,  of  course,  they  would  return  home; 
and  the  author,  happening,  one  day,  to  require  their  services 
for  a  short  voyage,  is  unexpectedly  carried  straight  up,  and  in 
a  very  brief  period  arrives  at  the  satellite.  Here  he  finds, 
among  other  odd  things,  that  the  people  enjoy  extreme  happi 
ness;  that  they  have  no  law;  that  they  die  without  pain;  that 
they  are  from  ten  to  thirty  feet  in  height;  that  they  live  five 
thousand  years;  that  they  have  an  emperor  called  Irdonozur; 
and  that  they  can  jump  sixty  feet  high,  when,  being  out  of  the 
gravitating  influence,  they  fly  about  with  fans. 

I  cannot  forbear  giving  a  specimen  of  the  general  phi 
losophy  of  the  volume. 

"I  must  now  declare  to  you,"  says  the  Signor  Gonzales, 
"the  nature  of  the  place  in  which  I  found  myself.  All  the 
clouds  were  beneath  my  feet,  or,  if  you  please,  spread  between 
me  and  the  earth.  As  to  the  stars,  since  there  was  no  night 
where  I  was,  they  always  had  the  same  appearance;  not  bril 
liant,  as  usual,  but  pale,  and  very  nearly  like  the  moon  of  a 
morning.  But  few  of  them  were  visible,  and  these  ten  times 
larger  (as  well  as  I  could  judge)  than  they  seem  to  the  inhab 
itants  of  the  earth.  The  moon,  which  wanted  two  days  of 
being  full,  was  of  a  terrible  bigness. 

' '  I  must  not  forget  here  that  the  stars  appeared  only  on 
that  side  of  the  globe  turned  toward  the  moon,  and  that  the 
closer  they  were  to  it  the  larger  they  seemed.  I  have  also  to 
inform  you  that,  whether  it  was  calm  weather  or  stormy,  I 
found  myself  always  immediately  between  the  moon  and  the 
earth.  I  was  convinced  of  this  for  two  reasons  —  because  my 

97 


EDGAR    ALLAN     POE 

birds  always  flew  in  a  straight  line;  and  because  whenever  we 
attempted  to  rest,  ice  were  carried  insensibly  around  the  globe 
of  the  earth.  For  I  admit  the  opinion  of  Copernicus,  who 
maintains  that  it  never  ceases  to  revolve  from  the  east  to  the 
west,  not  upon  the  poles  of  the  Equinoctial,  commonly  called 
the  poles  of  the  world,  but  upon  those  of  the  Zodiac,  a  ques 
tion  of  which  I  propose  to  speak  more  at  length  hereafter, 
when  I  shall  have  leisure  to  refresh  my  memory  in  regard  to 
the  astrology  which  I  learned  at  Salamanca  when  young,  and 
have  since  forgotten." 

Notwithstanding  the  blunders  italicized,  the  book  is  not 
without  some  claim  to  attention,  as  affording  a  naive  specimen 
of  the  current  astronomical  notions  of  the  time.  One  of  these 
assumed  that  the  "gravitating  power"  extended  but  a  short 
distance  from  the  earth's  surface,  and,  accordingly,  we  find 
our  voyager  "carried 'insensibly  around  the  globe,"  etc. 

There  have  been  other  "voyages  to  the  moon,"  but  none 
of  higher  merit  than  the  one  just  mentioned.  That  of  Bergerac 
is  utterly  meaningless.  In  the  third  volume  of  the  American 
Quarterly  Review  will  be  found  quite  an  elaborate  criticism 
upon  a  certain  "Journey"  of  the  kind  in  question; — a  criti 
cism  in  which  it  is  difficult  to  say  whether  the  critic  most  ex 
poses  the  stupidity  of  the  book,  or  his  own  absurd  ignorance 
of  astronomy.  I  forget  the  title  of  the  work;  but  the  means 
of  the  voyage  are  more  deplorably  ill  conceived  than  are  even 
the  ganzas  of  our  friend,  the  Signor  Gonzales.  The  adventurer, 
in  digging  the  earth,  happens  to  discover  a  peculiar  metal  for 
which  the  moon  has  a  strong  attraction,  and  straightway  con 
structs  of  it  a  box,  which,  when  cast  loose  from  its  terrestrial 
fastenings,  flies  with  him,  forthwith,  to  the  satellite.  The 
Flight  of  Thomas  O'Rourke  is  a  jeu  d'esprit  not  altogether  con 
temptible,  and  has  been  translated  into  German.  Thomas,  the 
hero,  was,  in  fact,  the  gamekeeper  of  an  Irish  peer,  whose 
eccentricities  gave  rise  to  the  tale.  The  "flight"  is  made  on 
an  eagle's  back,  from  Hungry  Hill,  a  lofty  mountain  at  the 
end  of  Bantry  Bay. 


ADVENTURE    OF    HANS    PFAALL 

In  these  various  BROCHURES  the  aim  is  always  satirical; 
the  theme  being  a  description  of  lunarian  customs  as  compared 
with  ours.  In  none  is  there  any  effort  at  PLAUSIBILITY  in  the 
details  of  the  voyage  itself.  The  writers  seem,  in  each  in 
stance,  to  be  utterly  uninformed  in  respect  to  astronomy.  In 
Hans  Pfaall  the  design  is  original,  inasmuch  as  regards  an 
attempt  at  VERISIMILITUDE,  in  the  application  of  scientific 
principles  (so  far  as  the  whimsical  nature  of  the  subject 
would  permit)  to  the  actual  passage  between  the  earth  and 
the  moon. 


99 


MS.    FOUND  IN  A    BOTTLE 

Qui  n'a  plus  qu'un  moment  a  vivre 
N'a  plus  rien  a  dissimuler. 

QUINAULT  —  Atys. 

>  F  MY  country  and  of  my  family  I  have 
little  to  say.  Ill  usage  and  length  of 
years  have  driven  me  from  the  one, 
and  estranged  me  from  the  other. 
Hereditary  wealth  afforded  me  an  ed 
ucation  of  no  common  order,  and  a  contemplative 
turn  of  mind  enabled  me  to  methodize  the  stores 
which  early  study  diligenty  garnered  up.  Beyond  all 
things,  the  works  of  the  German  moralists  gave  me 
great  delight;  not  from  my  ill-advised  admiration  of 
their  eloquent  madness,  but  from  the  ease  with  which 
my  habits  of  rigid  thought  enabled  me  to  detect  their 
falsities.  I  have  often  been  reproached  with  the 
aridity  of  my  genius ;  a  deficiency  of  imagination  has 
been  imputed  to  me  as  a  crime;  and  the  Pyrrhonism 
of  my  opinions  has  at  all  times  rendered  me  notori 
ous.  Indeed,  a  strong  relish  for  physical  philosophy 
has,  I  fear,  tinctured  my  mind  with  a  very  common 
error  of  this  age  —  I  mean  the  habit  of  referring 
occurrences,  even  the  least  susceptible  of  such  ref 
erence,  to  the  principles  of  that  science.  Upon  the 
whole,  no  person  could  be  less  liable  than  myself  to 


100 


VOL  i 


MS.   FOUND    IN    A    BOTTLE 

be  led  away  from  the  severe  precincts  of  truth  by  the 
ignes  fatiii  of  superstition.  I  have  thought  proper 
to  premise  thus  much,  lest  the  incredible  tale  I  have 
to  tell  should  be  considered  rather  the  raving  of  a 
crude  imagination  than  the  positive  experience  of  a 
mind  to  which  the  reveries  of  fancy  have  been  a  dead 
letter  and  a  nullity. 

After  many  years  spent  in  foreign  travel,  I  sailed 
in  the  year  18—,  from  the  port  of  Batavia,  in  the 
rich  and  populous  island  of  Java,  on  a  voyage  to 
the  Archipelago  Islands.  I  went  as  passenger,  hav 
ing  no  other  inducement  than  a  kind  of  nervous  rest 
lessness  which  haunted  me  as  a  fiend. 

Our  vessel  was  a  beautiful  ship  of  about  four  hun 
dred  tons,  copper-fastened,  and  built  at  Bombay  of 
Malabar  teak.  She  was  freighted  with  cotton-wool 
and  oil,  from  the  Lachadive  Islands.  We  had  also 
on  board  coir,  jaggeree,  ghee,  cocoanuts,  and  a  few 
cases  of  opium.  The  stowage  was  clumsily  done,  and 
the  vessel  consequently  crank. 

We  got  under  way  with  a  mere  breath  of  wind, 
and  for  many  days  stood  along  the  eastern  coast  of 
Java,  without  any  other  incident  to  beguile  the 
monotony  of  our  course  than  the  occasional  meeting 
with  some  of  the  small  grabs  of  the  Archipelago  to 
which  we  were  bound. 

One  evening,  leaning  over  the  taffrail,  I  observed 
a  very  singular  isolated  cloud,  to  the  N.  W.  It  was 
remarkable,  as  well  from  its  color  as  from  its  be 
ing  the  first  we  had  seen  since  our  departure  from 
Batavia.  I  watched  it  attentively  until  sunset,  when 

101 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 


it  spread  all  at  once  to  the  eastward  and  westward, 
girting  in  the  horizon  with  a  narrow  strip  of  vapor, 
and  looking  like  a  long  line  of  low  beach.  My  no 
tice  was  soon  afterward  attracted  by  the  dusky-red 
appearance  of  the  moon,  and  the  peculiar  character 
of  the  sea.  The  latter  was  undergoing  a  rapid  change, 
and  the  water  seemed  more  than  usually  transparent. 
Although  I  could  distinctly  see  the  bottom,  yet,  heav 
ing  the  lead,  I  found  the  ship  in  fifteen  fathoms.  The 
air  now  became  intolerably  hot,  and  was  loaded  with 
spiral  exhalations  similar  to  those  arising  from 
heated  iron.  As  night  came  on,  every  breath  of  wind 
died  away,  and  a  more  entire  calm  it  is  impossible 
to  conceive.  The  flame  of  a  candle  burned  upon  the 
poop  without  the  least  perceptible  motion,  and  a  long 
hair,  held  between  the  finger  and  thumb,  hung  with 
out  the  possibility  of  detecting  a  vibration.  How 
ever,  as  the  captain  said  he  could  perceive  no  indica 
tion  of  danger,  and  as  we  were  drifting  in  bodily 
to  shore,  he  ordered  the  sails  to  be  furled,  and  the 
anchor  let  go.  No  watch  was  set,  and  the  crew,  con 
sisting  principally  of  Malays,  stretched  themselves 
deliberately  upon  deck.  I  went  below,  not  without 
a  full  presentiment  of  evil.  Indeed,  every  appearance 
warranted  me  in  apprehending  a  simoon.  I  told  the 
captain  of  my  fears ;  but  he  paid  no  attention  to  what 
I  said,  and  left  me  without  deigning  to  give  a  reply. 
My  uneasiness,  however,  prevented  me  from  sleep 
ing,  and  about  midnight  I  went  up  on  deck.  As  I 
placed  my  foot  upon  the  upper  step  of  the  companion- 
ladder,  I  was  startled  by  a  loud,  humming  noise,  like 


102 


MS.   FOUND    IN    A    BOTTLE 

that  occasioned  by  the  rapid  revolution  of  a  mill- 
wheel,  and  before  I  could  ascertain  its  meaning,  I 
found  the  ship  quivering  to  its  center.  In  the  next 
instant  a  wilderness  of  foam  hurled  us  upon  our 
beam-ends,  and,  rushing  over  us  fore  and  aft,  swept 
the  entire  decks  from  stem  to  stern. 

The  extreme  fury  of  the  blast  proved,  in  a  great 
measure,  the  salvation  of  the  ship.  Although  com 
pletely  water-logged,  yet,  as  her  masts  had  gone  by 
the  board,  she  rose,  after  a  minute,  heavily  from  the 
sea,  and  staggering  awhile  beneath  the  immense  pres 
sure  of  the  tempest,  finally  righted. 

By  what  miracle  I  escaped  destruction,  it  is  im 
possible  to  say.  Stunned  by  the  shock  of  the  water, 
I  found  myself,  upon  recovery,  jammed  in  between 
the  stern-post  and  rudder.  With  great  difficulty  I 
regained  my  feet,  and,  looking  dizzily  around,  was 
at  first  struck  with  the  idea  of  our  being  among 
breakers;  so  terrific,  beyond  the  wildest  imagination, 
was  the  whirpool  of  mountainous  and  foaming  ocean 
within  which  we  were  engulfed.  After  a  while  I 
heard  the  voice  of  an  old  Swede,  who  had  shipped 
with  us  at  the  moment  of  leaving  port.  I  hallooed  to 
him  with  all  my  strength,  and  presently  he  came  reel 
ing  aft.  We  soon  discovered  that  we  were  the  sole 
survivors  of  the  accident.  All  on  deck,  with  the  ex 
ception  of  ourselves,  had  been  swept  overboard;  the 
captain  and  mates  must  have  perished  while  they 
slept,  for  the  cabins  were  deluged  with  water.  With 
out  assistance  we  could  expect  to  do  little  for  the 
security  of  the  ship,  and  our  exertions  were  at  first 

103 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

paralyzed  by  the  momentary  expectation  of  going 
down.  Our  cable  had,  of  course,  parted  like  pack 
thread  at  the  first  breath  of  the  hurricane,  or  we 
should  have  been  instantaneously  overwhelmed.  We 
scudded  with  frightful  velocity  before  the  sea,  and 
the  water  made  clear  breaches  over  us.  The  frame 
work  of  our  stern  was  shattered  excessively,  and,  in 
almost  every  respect,  we  had  received  considerable 
injury;  but  to  our  extreme  joy  we  found  the  pumps 
unchoked,  and  that  we  had  made  no  great  shifting 
of  our  ballast.  The  main  fury  of  the  blast  had  al 
ready  blown  over,  and  we  apprehended  little  danger 
from  the  violence  of  the  wind ;  but  we  looked  forward 
to  its  total  cessation  with  dismay;  well  believing 
that,  in  our  shattered  condition,  we  should  in 
evitably  perish  in  the  tremendous  swell  which  would 
ensue.  But  this  very  just  apprehension  seemed  by 
no  means  likely  to  be  soon  verified.  For  five  en 
tire  days  and  nights,  during  which  our  only  sub 
sistence  was  a  small  quantity  of  jaggeree,  procured 
with  great  difficulty  from  the  forecastle,  the  hulk 
flew  at  a  rate  defying  computation,  before  rapidly 
succeeding  flaws  of  wind,  which,  without  equalling 
the  first  violence  of  the  simoon,  were  still  more 
terrific  than  any  tempest  I  had  before  encountered. 
Our  course  for  the  first  four  days  was,  with  trifling 
variations,  S.  E.  and  by  S. ;  and  we  must  have  run 
down  the  coast  of  New  Holland.  On  the  fifth  day 
the  cold  became  extreme,  although  the  wind  had 
hauled  round  a  point  more  to  the  northward.  The 
sun  arose  with  a  sickly  yellow  luster,  and  clambered 

104 


MS,   FOUND    IN    A    BOTTLE 

a  very  few  degrees  above  the  horizon,  emitting  no 
decisive  light.  There  were  no  clouds  apparent,  yet 
the  wind  was  upon  the  increase,  and  blew  with  a  fit 
ful  and  unsteady  fury.  About  noon,  as  nearly  as  we 
could  guess,  our  attention  was  again  arrested  by  the 
appearance  of  the  sun.  It  gave  out  no  light,  properly 
so  called,  but  a  dull  and  sullen  glow  without  reflec 
tion,  as  if  all  its  rays  were  polarized.  Just  before 
sinking  within  the  turgid  sea,  its  central  fires  sud 
denly  went  out,  as  if  hurriedly  extinguished  by  some 
unaccountable  power.  It  was  a  dim,  silverlike  rim, 
alone,  as  it  rushed  down  the  unfathomable  ocean. 

We  waited  in  vain  for  the  arrival  of  the  sixth  day 
• —  that  day  to  me  has  not  yet  arrived  —  to  the  Swede 
never  did  arrive.  Thenceforward  we  were  enshrouded 
in  pitchy  darkness,  so  that  we  could  not  have  seen 
an  object  at  twenty  paces  from  the  ship.  Eternal 
night  continued  to  envelop  us,  all  unrelieved  by  the 
phosphoric  sea-brilliancy  to  which  we  had  been  ac 
customed  in  the  tropics.  We  observed,  too,  that,  al 
though  the  tempest  continued  to  rage  with  unabated 
violence,  there  was  no  longer  to  be  discovered  the 
usual  appearance  of  surf,  or  foam,  which  had  hitherto 
attended  us.  All  around  were  horror,  and  thick 
gloom,  and  a  black  sweltering  desert  of  ebony. 
Superstitious  terror  crept  by  degrees  into  the  spirit 
of  the  old  Swede,  and  my  own  soul  was  wrapt  in 
silent  wonder.  We  neglected  all  care  of  the  ship,  as 
worse  than  useless,  and,  securing  ourselves  as  well 
as  possible  to  the  stump  of  the  mizzenmast,  looked 
out  bitterly  into  the  world  of  ocean.  We  had  no 

105 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

means  of  calculating  time,  nor  could  we  form  any 
guess  of  our  situation.  We  were,  however,  well 
aware  of  having  made  farther  to  the  southward  than 
any  previous  navigators,  and  felt  great  amazement 
at  not  meeting  with  the  usual  impediments  of  ice. 
In  the  meantime  every  moment  threatened  to  be  our 
last  —  every  mountainous  billow  hurried  to  over 
whelm  us.  The  swell  surpassed  anything  I  had  im 
agined  possible,  and  that  we  were  not  instantly  buried 
is  a  miracle.  My  companion  spoke  of  the  lightness 
of  our  cargo,  and  reminded  me  of  the  excellent 
qualities  of  our  ship ;  but  I  could  not  help  feeling  the 
utter  hopelessness  of  hope  itself,  and  prepared  my 
self  gloomily  for  that  death  which  I  thought  nothing 
could  defer  beyond  an  hour,  as,  with  every  knot  of 
way  the  ship  made,  the  swelling  of  the  black,  stu 
pendous  seas  became  more  dismally  appalling.  At 
times  we  gasped  for  breath  at  an  elevation  beyond 
the  albatross  —  at  times  became  dizzy  with  the  ve 
locity  of  our  descent  into  some  watery  hell,  where 
the  air  grew  stagnant,  and  no  sound  disturbed  the 
slumbers  of  the  kraken. 

We  were  at  the  bottom  of  one  of  these  abysses, 
when  a  quick  scream  from  my  companion  broke 
fearfully  upon  the  night.  "See!  see!"  cried  he, 
shrieking  in  my  ears,  "Almighty  God!  see!  see!" 
As  he  spoke  I  became  aware  of  a  dull,  sullen  glare  of 
red  light  which  streamed  down  the  sides  of  the  vast 
chasm  where  we  lay,  and  threw  a  fitful  brilliancy 
upon  our  deck.  Casting  my  eyes  upwards,  I  be 
held  a  spectacle  which  froze  the  current  of  my 


106 


MS.   FOUND    IN    A    BOTTLE 

blood.  At  a  terrific  height  directly  above  us,  and 
upon  the  very  verge  of  the  precipitous  descent, 
hovered  a  gigantic  ship  of  perhaps  four  thousand 
tons.  Although  upreared  upon  the  summit  of  a  wave 
more  than  a  hundred  times  her  own  altitude,  her 
apparent  size  still  exceeded  that  of  any  ship  of  the 
line  or  East  Indiaman  in  existence.  Her  huge  hull 
was  of  a  deep,  dingy  black,  unrelieved  by  any  of  the 
customary  carvings  of  a  ship.  A  single  row  of  brass 
cannon  protruded  from  her  open  ports,  and  dashed 
from  their  polished  surfaces  the  fires  of  innumerable 
battle-lanterns  which  swung  to  and  fro  about  her 
rigging.  But  what  mainly  inspired  us  with  hor 
ror  and  astonishment  was  that  she  bore  up  under  a 
press  of  sail  in  the  very  teeth  of  that  supernatural 
sea,  and  of  that  ungovernable  hurricane.  When  we 
first  discovered  her,  her  bows  were  alone  to  be  seen, 
as  she  rose  slowly  from  the  dim  and  horrible  gulf 
beyond  her.  For  a  moment  of  intense  terror  she 
paused  upon  the  giddy  pinnacle  as  if  in  contemplation 
of  her  own  sublimity,  then  trembled,  and  tottered, 
and  —  came  down. 

At  this  instant,  I  know  not  what  sudden  self- 
possession  came  over  my  spirit.  Staggering  as  far 
aft  as  I  could,  I  awaited  fearlessly  the  ruin  that  was 
to  overwhelm.  Our  own  vessel  was  at  length  ceas 
ing  from  her  struggles,  and  sinking  with  her  head 
to  the  sea.  The  shock  of  the  descending  mass  struck 
her,  consequently,  in  that  portion  of  her  frame  which 
was  nearly  under  water,  and  the  inevitable  result  was 


107 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

to  hurl  me,  with  irresistible  violence,  upon  the  rigging 
of  the  stranger. 

As  I  fell,  the  ship  hove  in  stays,  and  went  about; 
and  to  the  confusion  ensuing  I  attributed  my  escape 
from  the  notice  of  the  crew.  With  little  difficulty  I 
made  my  way,  unperceived,  to  the  main  hatchway, 
which  was  partially  open,  and  soon  found  an  op 
portunity  of  secreting  myself  in  the  hold.  Why  I 
did  so  I  can  hardly  tell.  An  indefinite  sense  of  awe, 
which  at  first  sight  of  the  navigators  of  the  ship  had 
taken  hold  of  my  mind,  was  perhaps  the  principle 
of  my  concealment.  I  was  unwilling  to  trust  my 
self  with  a  race  of  people  who.  had  offered,  to  the 
cursory  glance  I  had  taken,  so  many  points  of  vague 
novelty,  doubt,  and  apprehension.  I  therefore 
thought  proper  to  contrive  a  hiding-place  in  the  hold. 
This  I  did  by  removing  a  small  portion  of  the  shift 
ing-boards  in  such  a  manner  as  to  afford  me  a  con 
venient  retreat  between  the  huge  timbers  of  the  ship. 

I  had  scarcely  completed  my  work,  when  a  foot 
step  in  the  hold  forced  me  to  make  use  of  it.  A  man 
passed  by  my  place  of  concealment  with  a  feeble 
and  unsteady  gait.  I  could  not  see  his  face,  but  had 
an  opportunity  of  observing  his  general  appearance. 
There  was  about  it  an  evidence  of  great  age  and 
infirmity.  His  knees  tottered  beneath  a  load  of 
years,  and  his  entire  frame  quivered  under  the 
burthen.  He  muttered  to  himself,  in  a  low,  broken 
tone,  some  words  of  a  language  which  I  could  not  un 
derstand,  and  groped  in  a  corner  among  a  pile  of 
singular-looking  instruments  and  decayed  charts  of 

108 


MS.   FOUND    IN    A    BOTTLE 

navigation.  His  manner  was  a  wild  mixture  of  the 
peevishness  of  second  childhood  and  the  solemn  dig 
nity  of  a  god.  He  at  length  went  on  deck  and  I  saw 

him  no  more. 

***** 

A  feeling  for  which  I  have  no  name  has  taken 
possession  of  my  soul  —  a  sensation  which  will  ad 
mit  of  no  analysis,  to  which  the  lessons  of  bygone 
time  are  inadequate,  and  for  which  I  fear  futurity 
itself  will  offer  me  no  key.  To  a  mind  constituted 
like  my  own  the  latter  consideration  is  an  evil.  I 
shall  never  —  I  know  that  I  shall  never  —  be  satisfied 
with  regard  to  the  nature  of  my  conceptions.  Yet 
it  is  not  wonderful  that  these  conceptions  are  in 
definite,  since  they  have  their  origin  in  sources  so 
utterly  novel.  A  new  sense  —  a  new  entity,  is  added 

to  my  soul. 

***** 

It  is  long  since  I  first  trod  the  deck  of  this  ter 
rible  ship,  and  the  rays  of  my  destiny  are,  I 
think,  gathering  to  a  focus.  Incomprehensible  men! 
Wrapped  up  in  meditations  of  a  kind  which  I  can 
not  divine,  they  pass  me  by  unnoticed.  Conceal 
ment  is  utter  folly  on  my  part,  for  the  people  will 
not  see.  It  is  but  just  now  that  I  passed  directly  be 
fore  the  eyes  of  the  mate;  it  was  no  long  while  ago 
that  I  ventured  into  the  captain's  own  private  cabin, 
and  took  thence  the  materials  with  which  I  write,  and 
have  written.  I  shall  from  time  to  time  continue  this 
journal.  It  is  true  that  I  may  not  find  an  opportunity 
of  transmitting  it  to  the  world,  but  I  will  not  fail  to 


109 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

make  the  endeavor.     At  the  last  moment  I  will  en 
close  the  MS.   in  a  bottle,   and   cast  it  within  the 

sea. 

*  *  *  *  * 

An  incident  has  occurred  which  has  given  me  new 
room  for  meditation.  Are  such  things  the  operation 
of  ungoverned  chance?  I  had  ventured  upon  deck 
and  thrown  myself  down,  without  attracting  any 
notice,  among  a  pile  of  ratlin-stuff  and  old  sails,  in 
the  bottom  of  the  yawl.  While  musing  upon  the 
singularity  of  my  fate,  I  unwittingly  daubed  with  a 
tar-brush  the  edges  of  a  neatly  folded  studding-saiJ 
which  lay  near  me  on  a  barrel.  The  studding-sail 
is  now  bent  upon  the  ship,  and  the  thoughtless 
touches  of  the  brush  are  spread  out  into  the  word 
DISCOVERY. 

I  have  made  my  observations  lately  upon  the 
structure  of  the  vessel.  Although  well  armed,  she 
is  not,  I  think,  a  ship  of  war.  Her  rigging,  build, 
and  general  equipment  all  negative  a  supposition  of 
this  kind.  What  she  is  not,  I  can  easily  perceive; 
what  she  is,  I  fear  it  is  impossible  to  say.  I  know 
not  how  it  is,  but  in  scrutinizing  her  strange  model 
and  singular  cast  of  spars,  her  huge  size  and  over 
grown  suits  of  canvas,  her  severely  simple  bow  and 
antiquated  stern,  there  will  occasionally  flash  across 
my  mind  a  sensation  of  familiar  things,  and  there 
is  always  mixed  up  with  such  indistinct  shadows  of 
recollection  an  unaccountable  memory  of  old  foreign 
chronicles  and  ages  long  ago.  *  *  * 

I  have  been  looking  at  the  timbers  of  the  ship. 


no 


MS.  FOUND    IN    A    BOTTLE 

She  is  built  of  a  material  to  which  I  am  a  stranger. 
There  is  a  peculiar  character  about  the  wood  which 
strikes  me  as  rendering  it  unfit  for  the  purpose  to 
which  it  has  been  applied.  I  mean  its  extreme 
porousness,  considered  independently  of  the  worm- 
eaten  condition  which  is  a  consequence  of  navigation 
in  these  seas,  and  apart  from  the  rottenness  at 
tendant  upon  age.  It  will  appear,  perhaps,  an  ob 
servation  somewhat  overcurious,  but  this  would  have 
every  characteristic  of  Spanish  oak,  if  Spanish  oak 
were  distended  by  any  unnatural  means. 

In  reading  the  above  sentence,  a  curious  apothegm 
of  an  old  weather-beaten  Dutch  navigator  comes  full 
upon  my  recollection.  "It  is  as  sure,"  he  was  wont 
to  say,  when  any  doubt  was  entertained  of  his 
veracity,  "as  sure  as  there  is  a  sea  where  the  ship 
itself  will  grow  in  bulk  like  the  living  body  of  the 
seaman."  *  *  * 

About  an  hour  ago  I  made  bold  to  thrust  myself 
among  a  group  of  the  crew.  They  paid  me  no  man 
ner  of  attention,  and,  although  I  stood  in  the  very 
midst  of  them  all,  seemed  utterly  unconscious  of  my 
presence.  Like  the  one  I  had  at  first  seen  in  the  hold, 
they  all  bore  about  them  the  marks  of  a  hoary  old 
age.  Their  knees  trembled  with  infirmity;  their 
shoulders  were  bent  double  with  decrepitude;  their 
shrivelled  skins  rattled  in  the  wind ;  their  voices  were 
low,  tremulous,  and  broken ;  their  eyes  glistened  with 
the  rheum  of  years;  and  their  gray  hairs  streamed 
terribly  in  the  tempest.  Around  them,  on  every  part 


II 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

of  the  deck,  lay  scattered  mathematical  instruments 
of  the  most  quaint  and  obsolete  construction.  *  *  * 

I  mentioned,  some  time  ago,  the  bending  of  a 
studding-sail.  From  that  period,  the  ship,  being 
thrown  dead  off  the  wind,  has  continued  her  terrific 
course  due  south,  with  every  rag  of  canvas  packed 
upon  her,  from  her  truck  to  her  lower  studding-sail 
booms,  and  rolling  every  moment  her  top-gallant 
yard-arms  into  the  most  appalling  hell  of  water 
which  it  can  enter  into  the  mind  of  man  to  imagine. 
I  have  just  left  the  deck,  where  I  find  it  impossible 
to  maintain  a  footing,  although  the  crew  seem  to  ex 
perience  little  inconvenience.  It  appears  to  me  a 
miracle  of  miracles  that  our  enormous  bulk  is  not 
swallowed  up  at  once  and  forever.  We  are  surely 
doomed  to  hover  continually  upon  the  brink  of 
eternity,  without  taking  a  final  plunge  into  the 
abyss.  From  billows  a  thousand  times  more  stupen 
dous  than  any  I  have  ever  seen  we  glide  away  with 
the  facility  of  the  arrowy  sea-gull;  and  the  colossal 
waters  rear  their  heads  above  us  like  demons  of  the 
deep,  but  like  demons  confined  to  simple  threats,  and 
forbidden  to  destroy.  I  am  led  to  attribute  these 
frequent  escapes  to  the  only  natural  cause  which  can 
account  for  such  effect.  I  must  suppose  the  ship  to 
be  within  the  influence  of  some  strong  current  or 
impetuous  undertow.  *  *  * 

I  have  seen  the  captain  face  to  face,  and  in  his 
own  cabin  —  but,  as  I  expected,  he  paid  me  no  at 
tention.  Although  in  his  appearance  there  is,  to 
a  casual  observer,  nothing  which  might  bespeak  him 

112 


MS.   FOUND    IN    A    BOTTLE 

more  or  less  than  man,  still,  a  feeling  of  irrepressible 
reverence  and  awe  mingles  with  the  sensation  of 
wonder  with  which  I  regard  him.  In  stature,  he  is 
nearly  my  own  height;  that  is,  about  five  feet  eight 
inches.  He  is  of  a  well-kint  and  compact  frame  of 
body,  neither  robust  nor  remarkable  otherwise.  But 
it  is  the  singularity  of  the  expression  which  reigns 
upon  the  face  —  it  is  the  intense,  the  wonderful,  the 
thrilling  evidence  of  old  age  so  utter,  so  extreme, 
which  excites  within  my  spirit  a  sense  —  a  sentiment 
ineffable.  His  forehead,  although  little  wrinkled, 
seems  to  bear  upon  it  the  stamp  of  a  myriad  of 
years.  His  gray  hairs  are  records  of  the  past,  and 
his  grayer  eyes  are  sibyls  of  the  future.  The  cabin 
floor  was  thickly  strewn  with  strange,  ironclasped 
folios,  and  mouldering  instruments  of  science,  and 
obsolete,  long-forgotten  charts.  His  head  was  bowed 
down  upon  his  hands,  and  he  pored,  with  a  fiery, 
unquiet  eye,  over  a  paper  which  I  took  to  be  a  com 
mission,  and  which,  at  all  events,  bore  the  signature 
of  a  monarch.  He  murmured  to  himself  —  as  did  the 
first  seaman  whom  I  saw  in  the  hold  —  some  low, 
peevish  syllables  of  a  foreign  tongue;  and  although 
the  speaker  was  close  at  my  elbow,  his  voice  seemed 
to  reach  my  ears  from  the  distance  of  a  mile.  *  *  * 
The  ship  and  all  in  it  are  imbued  with  the  spirit 
of  Eld.  The  crew  glide  to  and  fro  like  the  ghosts 
of  buried  centuries;  their  eyes  have  an  eager  and 
uneasy  meaning;  and  when  their  figures  fall  athwart 
my  path,  in  the  wild  glare  of  the  battle-lanterns,  I 
feel  as  I  have  never  felt  before,  although  I  have  been 

I — 8  113 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 


all  my  life  a  dealer  in  antiquities,  and  have  imbibed 
the  shadows  of  fallen  columns  at  Baalbec,  and 
Tadmor,  and  Persepolis,  until  my  very  soul  has  be 
come  a  ruin.  *  *  * 

When  I  look  around  me,  I  feel  ashamed  of  my 
former  apprehension.  If  I  trembled  at  the  blast 
which  has  hitherto  attended  us,  shall  I  not  stand 
aghast  at  a  warring  of  wind  and  ocean,  to  convey 
any  idea  of  which,  the  words  tornado  and  simoon 
are  trivial  and  ineffective?  All  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  the  ship  is  the  blackness  of  eternal  night 
and  a  chaos  of  foamless  water;  but  about  a  league 
on  either  side  of  us  may  be  seen,  indistinctly  and  at 
intervals,  stupendous  ramparts  of  ice,  towering  away 
into  the  desolate  sky,  and  looking  like  the  walls  of 
the  universe.  *  *  * 

As  I  imagined,  the  ship  proves  to  be  in  a  current, 
if  that  appellation  can  properly  be  given  to  a  tide 
which,  howling  and  shrieking  by  the  white  ice,  thun 
ders  on  the  southward  with  a  velocity  like  the 
headlong  dashing  of  a  cataract.  *  *  * 

To  conceive  the  horror  of  my  sensations  is,  I  pre 
sume,  utterly  impossible ;  yet  a  curiosity  to  penetrate 
the  mysteries  of  these  awful  regions,  predominates 
even  over  my  despair,  and  will  reconcile  me  to  the 
most  hideous  aspect  of  death.  It  is  evident  that  we 
are  hurrying  onward  to  some  exciting  knowledge  — 
some  never-to-be-imparted  secret,  whose  attainment 
is  destruction.  Perhaps  this  current  leads  us  to  the 
southern  pole  itself.  It  must  be  confessed  that  a  sup- 


114 


MS.   FOUND    IN    A    BOTTLE 

position  apparently  so  wild  has  every  probability  in 
its  favor.  *  *  * 

The  crew  pace  the  deck  with  unquiet  and  trem 
ulous  step;  but  there  is  upon  their  countenance  an 
expression  more  of  the  eagerness  of  hope  than  of 
the  apathy  of  despair. 

In  the  meantime  the  wind  is  still  in  our  poop, 
and,  as  we  carry  a  crowd  of  canvas,  the  ship  is  at 
times  lifted  bodily  from  out  the  sea!  Oh,  horror 
upon  horror !  the  ice  opens  suddenly  to  the  right  and 
to  the  left,  and  we  are  whirling  dizzily,  in  immense 
concentric  circles,  round  and  round  the  borders  of  a 
gigantic  amphitheatre,  the  summit  of  whose  walls  is 
lost  in  the  darkness  and  the  distance.  But  little 
time  will  be  left  me  to  ponder  upon  my  destiny! 
The  circles  rapidly  grow  small  —  we  are  plunging 
madly  within  the  grasp  of  the  whirlpool  —  and  amid 
a  roaring,  and  bellowing,  and  thundering  of  ocean 
and  tempest  the  ship  is  quivering  —  oh  God!  and 
—  going  down ! 

NOTE. —  The  MS.  Found  in  a  Bottle  was  originally 
published  in  1831,  and  it  was  not  until  many  years  after 
ward  that  I  became  acquainted  with  the  maps  of  Mercator, 
in  which  the  ocean  is  represented  as  rushing,  by  four 
mouths  into  the  (northern)  Polar  Gulf,  to  be  absorbed  into 
the  bowels  of  the  earth;  the  pole  itself  being  represented  by 
a  black  rock,  towering  to  a  prodigious  height. 


THE    ASSIGNATION 


Stay  for  me  there!    I  will  not  fail 
To   meet  thee  in  that   hollow  vale. 

[Exequy  on  the  death  of  his  wife,  by  Henry  King,  Bishop  of 
Chwhester.'] 


P|LL-FATED  and  mysterious  man!  bewil 
dered  in  the  brilliancy  of  thine  own 
imagination,  and  fallen  in  the  flames 
j  of  thine  own  youth,  again  in  fancy  I 
behold  thee !  Once  more  thy  form  hath 
risen  before  me,  not  —  oh!  not  as  thou  art  —  in  the 
cold  valley  and  shadow,  but  as  thou  SHOULDST  BE  — 
squandering  away  a  life  of  magnificent  meditation 
in  that  city  of  dim  visions,  thine  own  Venice,  which 
is  a  star-beloved  Elysium  of  the  sea,  and  the  wide 
windows  of  whose  Palladian  palaces  look  down  with 
a  deep  and  bitter  meaning  upon  the  secrets  of  her 
silent  waters.  Yes !  I  repeat  it  —  as  thou  SHOULDST 
BE.  There  are  surely  other  worlds  than  this  —  other 
thoughts  than  the  thoughts  of  the  multitude  —  other 
speculations  than  the  speculations  of  the  sophist. 
Who  then  shall  call  thy  conduct  into  question?  who 
blame  thee  for  thy  visionary  hours,  or  denounce 
those  occupations  as  a  wasting  away  of  life,  which 
were  but  ,  the  overflowings  of  thine  everlasting 
energies  ? 


VOL  i 


116 


THE     ASSIGNATION 

It  was  at  Venice,  beneath  the  covered  archway 
there  called  the  Ponte  di  Sospiri,  that  I  met  for  the 
third  or  fourth  time  the  person  of  whom  I  speak.  It 
is  with  a  confused  recollection  that  I  bring  to  mind 
the  circumstances  of  that  meeting.  Yet  I  remem 
ber  —  ah !  how  should  I  forget  ?  —  the  deep  midnight, 
the  Bridge  of  Sighs,  the  beauty  of  woman,  and  the 
Genius  of  Romance  that  stalked  up  and  down  the 
narrow  canal. 

It  was  a  night  of  unusual  gloom.  The  great  clock 
of  the  Piazza  had  sounded  the  fifth  hour  of  the 
Italian  evening.  The  square  of  the  Campanile  lay 
silent  and  deserted,  and  the  lights  in  the  old  Ducal 
Palace  were  dying  fast  away.  I  was  returning  home 
from  the  Piazzetta  by  way  of  the  Grand  Canal.  But 
as  my  gondola  arrived  opposite  the  mouth  of  the  canal 
San  Marco  a  female  voice  from  its  recesses  broke 
suddenly  upon  the  night  in  one  wild,  hysterical,  and 
long-continued  shriek.  Startled  at  the  sound,  I 
sprang  upon  my  feet,  while  the  gondolier,  letting 
slip  his  single  oar,  lost  it  in  the  pitchy  darkness  be 
yond  a  chance  of  recovery,  and  we  were  consequently 
left  to  the  guidance  of  the  current  which  here  sets 
from  the  greater  into  the  smaller  channel.  Like  some 
huge  and  sable-feathered  condor,  we  were  slowly 
drifting  down  toward  the  Bridge  of  Sighs,  when  a 
thousand  flambeaux,  flashing  from  the  windows  and 
down  the  staircases  of  the  Ducal  Palace,  turned  all 
at  once  that  deep  gloom  into  a  livid  and  preternatural 
day. 

A  child,  slipping  from  the  arms  of  its  own  mother, 


117 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 


had  fallen  from  an  upper  window  of  the  lofty  struc 
ture  into  the  deep  and  dim  canal.  The  quiet  waters 
had  closed  placidly  over  their  victim;  and,  although 
my  own  gondola  was  the  only  one  in  sight,  many  a 
stout  swimmer,  already  in  the  stream,  was  seeking  in 
vain  upon  the  surface  the  treasure  which  was  to  be 
found,  alas!  only  within  the  abyss.  Upon  the  broad 
black  marble  flagstones  at  the  entrance  of  the  palace, 
and  a  few  steps  above  the  water,  stood  a  figure 
which  none  who  then  saw  can  have  ever  since  for 
gotten.  It  was  the  Marchesa  Aphrodite  —  the  adora 
tion  of  all  Venice  —  the  gayest  of  the  gay  —  the  most 
lovely  where  all  were  beautiful  —  but  still  the  young 
wife  of  the  old  and  intriguing  Mentoni,  and  the 
mother  of  that  fair  child,  her  first  and  only  one,  who 
now,  deep  beneath  the  murky  water,  was  thinking 
in  bitterness  of  heart  upon  her  sweet  caresses,  and  ex 
hausting  its  little  life  in  struggles  to  call  upon  her 
name. 

She  stood  alone.  Her  small  bare  and  silvery  feet 
gleamed  in  the  black  mirror  of  marble  beneath  her. 
Her  hair,  not  as  yet  more  than  half  loosened  for  the 
night  from  its  ballroom  array,  clustered,  amid  a 
shower  of  diamonds,  round  and  round  her  classical 
head,  in  curls  like  those  of  the  young  hyacinth.  A 
snowy-white  and  gauze-like  drapery  seemed  to  be 
nearly  the  sole  covering  to  her  delicate  form;  but 
the  midsummer  and  midnight  air  was  hot,  sullen,  and 
still,  and  no  motion  in  the  statue-like  form  itself 
stirred  even  the  folds  of  that  raiment  of  very  vapor 
which  hung  around  it  as  the  heavy  marble  hangs 


118 


THE     ASSIGNATION 

around  the  Niobe.  Yet,  strange  to  say,  her  large 
lustrous  eyes  were  not  turned  downward  upon  that 
grave  wherein  her  brightest  hope  lay  buried,  but 
riveted  in  a  widely  different  direction!  The  prison 
of  the  Old  Republic  is,  I  think,  the  stateliest  build 
ing  in  all  Venice,  but  how  could  that  lady  gaze  so 
fixedly  upon  it  when  beneath  her  lay  stifling  her 
own  child  ?  Yon  dark,  gloomy  niche,  too,  yawns  right 
opposite  her  chamber  window.  What,  then,  COULD 
there  be  in  its  shadows,  in  its  architecture,  in  its 
ivy-wreathed  and  solemn  cornices,  that  the  Marchesa 
di  Mentoni  had  not  wondered  at  a  thousand  times 
before  ?  Nonsense !  Who  does  not  remember  that,  at 
such  a  time  as  this,  the  eye,  like  a  shattered  mirror, 
multiplies  the  images  of  its  sorrow,  and  sees  in  in 
numerable  far-off  places  the  woe  which  is  close  at 
hand? 

Many  steps  above  the  Marchesa,  and  within  the 
arch  of  the  water-gate,  stood,  in  full  dress,  the  satyr- 
like  figure  of  Mentoni  himself.  He  was  occasionally 
occupied  in  thrumming  a  guitar,  and  seemed  ennuye 
to  the  very  death  as  at  intervals  he  gave  directions 
for  the  recovery  of  his  child.  Stupefied  and  aghast, 
I  had  myself  no  power  to  move  from  the  upright 
position  I  had  assumed  upon  first  hearing  the  shriek, 
and  must  have  presented  to  the  eyes  of  the  agitated 
group  a  spectral  and  ominous  appearance,  as  with 
pale  countenance  and  rigid  limbs  I  floated  down 
among  them  in  that  funereal  gondola. 

All  efforts  proved  in  vain.  Many  of  the  most 
energetic  in  the  search  were  relaxing  their  exertions 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

and  yielding  to  a  gloomy  sorrow.  There  seemed  but 
little  hope  for  the  child;  (how  much  less  than  for 
the  mother!),  but  now,  from  the  interior  of  that 
dark  niche  which  has  been  already  mentioned  as 
forming  a  part  of  the  Old  Republican  prison  and  as 
fronting  the  lattice  of  the  Marchesa,  a  figure  muffled 
in  a  cloak  stepped  out  within  reach  of  the  light,  and, 
pausing  a  moment  upon  the  verge  of  the  giddy  de 
scent,  plunged  headlong  into  the  canal.  As,  in  an 
instant  afterward,  he  stood  with  the  still  living  and 
breathing  child  within  his  grasp,  upon  the  marble 
flagstones  by  the  side  of  the  Marchesa,  his  cloak, 
heavy  with  the  drenching  water,  became  unfastened 
and,  falling  in  folds  about  his  feet,  discovered  to  the 
wonder-stricken  spectators  the  graceful  person  of  a 
very  young  man,  with  the  sound  of  whose  name  the 
greater  part  of  Europe  was  then  ringing. 

No  word  spoke  the  deliverer.  But  the  Marchesa! 
She  will  now  receive  her  child,  she  will  press  it  to 
her  heart,  she  will  cling  to  its  little  form,  and 
smother  it  with  her  caresses.  Alas!  ANOTHER'S  arms 
have  taken  it  from  the  stranger,  ANOTHER'S  arms 
have  taken  it  away,  and  borne  it  afar  off,  un 
noticed,  into  the  palace!  And  the  Marchesa!  Her 
lip  —  her  beautiful  lip  trembles;  tears  are  gathering 
in  her  eyes  —  those  eyes  which,  like  Pliny 's  acanthus, 
are  "soft  and  almost  liquid. "  Yes!  tears  are  gather 
ing  in  those  eyes  —  and  see !  the  entire  woman 
thrills  throughout  the  soul,  and  the  statue  has 
started  into  life!  The  pallor  of  the  marble  coun 
tenance,  the  swelling  of  the  marble  bosom,  the  very 


120 


THE     ASSIGNATION 

purity  of  the  marble  feet,  we  behold  suddenly  flushed 
over  with  a  tide  of  ungovernable  crimson;  and  a 
slight  shudder  quivers  about  her  delicate  frame  as  a 
gentle  air  at  Napoli  about  the  rich  silver  lilies  iri 
the  grass. 

Why  SHOULD  that  lady  blush?  To  this  demand 
there  is  no  answer  —  except  that,  having  left,  in  the 
eager  haste  and  terror  of  a  mother's  heart,  the 
privacy  of  her  own  boudoir,  she  has  neglected  to 
enthral  her  tiny  feet  in  their  slippers  and  utterly 
forgotten  to  throw  over  her  Venetian  shoulders  that 
drapery  which  is  their  due.  What  other  possible 
reason  could  there  have  been  for  her  so  blushing? 
for  the  glance  of  those  wild  appealing  eyes?  for  the 
unusual  tumult  of  that  throbbing  bosom?  for  the 
convulsive  pressure  of  that  trembling  hand  ?  —  that 
hand  which  fell,  as  Mentoni  turned  into  the  palace, 
accidentally,  upon  the  hand  of  the  stranger?  What 
reason  could  there  have  been  for  the  low  —  the  sin 
gularly  low  tone  of  those  unmeaning  words  which 
the  lady  uttered  hurriedly  in  bidding  him  adieu? 
1  'Thou  hast  conquered,"  she  said,  or  the  murmurs 
of  the  water  deceived  me;  "thou  hast  conquered; 
one  hour  after  sunrise,  we  shall  meet.  So  let  it 

be!" 

***** 

The  tumult  had  subsided,  the  lights  had  died 
away  within  the  palace,  and  the  stranger,  whom  I 
now  recognized,  stood  alone  upon  the  flags.  He 
shook  with  inconceivable  agitation,  and  his  eye 
glanced  around  in  search  of  a  gondola.  I  could  not 


121 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

do  less  than  offer  him  the  service  of  my  own;  and 
he  accepted  the  civility.  Having  obtained  an  oar  at 
the  water-gate,  we  proceeded  together  to  his  resi 
dence,  while  he  rapidly  recovered  his  self-possession 
and  spoke  of  our  former  slight  acquaintance  in  terms 
of  great  apparent  cordiality. 

There  are  some  subjects  upon  which  I  take  pleas 
ure  in  being  minute.  The  person  of  the  stranger  — 
let  me  call  him  by  this  title,  who  to  all  the  world 
was  still  a  stranger  —  the  person  of  the  stranger  is 
one  of  these  subjects.  In  height  he  might  have  been 
below  rather  than  above  the  medium  size,  although 
there  were  moments  of  intense  passion  when  his 
frame  actually  EXPANDED  and  belied  the  assertion. 
The  light,  almost  slender  symmetry  of  his  figure 
promised  more  of  that  ready  activity  which  he 
evinced  at  the  Bridge  of  Sighs  than  of  that  Herculean 
strength  which  he  has  been  known  to  wield  without 
an  effort,  upon  occasions  of  more  dangerous  emer 
gency.  With  the  mouth  and  chin  of  a  deity —  sin 
gular,  wild,  full,  liquid  eyes,  whose  shadows  varied 
from  pure  hazel  to  intense  and  brilliant  jet  —  and  a 
profusion  of  curling,  black  hair,  from  which  a  fore 
head  of  unusual  breadth  gleamed  forth  at  intervals 
all  light  and  ivory  —  his  were  features  than  which  I 
have  seen  none  more  classically  regular,  except,  per 
haps,  the  marble  ones  of  the  Emperor  Commodus.  Yet 
his  countenance  was,  nevertheless,  one  of  those  which 
all  men  have  seen  at  some  period  of  their  lives  and 
have  never  afterward  seen  again.  It  had  no  peculiar, 
it  had  no  settled  predominant  expression  to  be  fastened 


122 


THE     ASSIGNATION 

upon  the  memory;  a  countenance  seen  and  instantly 
forgotten,  but  forgotten  with  a  vague  and  never-ceas 
ing  desire  of  recalling  it  to  mind.  Not  that  the  spirit 
of  each  rapid  passion  failed,  at  any  time,  to  throw 
its  own  distinct  image  upon  the  mirror  of  that  face, 
but  that  the  mirror,  mirror-like,  retained  no  vestige 
of  the  passion  when  the  passion  had  departed. 

Upon  leaving  him  on  the  night  of  our  adventure 
he  solicited  me,  in  what  I  thought  an  urgent  man 
ner,  to  call  upon  him  VERY  early  the  next  morning. 
Shortly  after  sunrise  I  found  myself  accordingly  at 
his  palazzo,  one  of  those  huge  structures  of  gloomy, 
yet  fantastic  pomp,  which  tower  above  the  waters  of 
the  Grand  Canal  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Rialto.  I  was 
shown  up  a  broad  winding  staircase  of  mosaics  into 
an  apartment  whose  unparalleled  splendor  burst 
through  the  opening  door  with  an  actual  glare,  mak 
ing  me  blind  and  dizzy  with  luxuriousness. 

I  knew  my  acquaintance  to  be  wealthy.  Report 
had  spoken  of  his  possessions  in  terms  which  I  had 
even  ventured  to  call  terms  of  ridiculous  exaggera 
tion.  But  as  I  gazed  about  me,  I  could  not  bring 
myself  to  believe  that  the  wealth  of  any  subject  in 
Europe  could  have  supplied  the  princely  magnificence 
which  burned  and  blazed  around. 

Although,  as  I  say,  the  sun  had  arisen,  yet  the 
room  was  still  brilliantly  lighted  up.  I  judge  from 
this  circumstance,  as  well  as  from  an  air  of  exhaustion 
in  the  countenance  of  my  friend,  that  he  had  not  re 
tired  to  bed  during  the  whole  of  the  preceding  night. 
In  the  architecture  and  embellishments  of  the  cham- 


123 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

ber  the  evident  design  had  been  to  dazzle  and 
astound.  Little  attention  had  been  paid  to  the  decora 
of  what  is  technically  called  KEEPING,  or  to  the 
proprieties  of  nationality.  The  eye  wandered  from 
object  to  object  and  rested  upon  none,  neither  the 
grotesques  of  the  Greek  painters,  nor  the  sculptures 
of  the  best  Italian  days,  nor  the  huge  carvings  of  un 
tutored  Egypt.  Rich  draperies  in  every  part  of  the 
room  trembled  to  the  vibration  of  low,  melancholy 
music,  whose  origin  was  not  to  be  discovered.  The 
senses  were  oppressed  by  mingled  and  conflicting  per 
fumes,  reeking  up  from  strange  convolute  censers,  to 
gether  with  multitudinous  flaring  and  flickering 
tongues  of  emerald  and  violet  fire.  The  rays  of  the 
newly  risen  sun  poured  in  upon  the  whole,  through 
windows  formed  each  of  a  single  pane  of  crimson- 
tinted  glass.  Glancing  to  and  fro  in  a  thousand  re 
flections  from  curtains  which  rolled  from  their 
cornices  like  cataracts  of  molten  silver,  the  beams  of 
natural  glory  mingled  at  length  fitfully  with  the 
artificial  light,  and  lay  weltering  in  subdued  masses 
upon  a  carpet  of  rich,  liquid-looking  cloth  of  Chili 
gold. 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!  — ha!  ha!  ha!"  laughed  the  pro 
prietor,  motioning  me  to  a  seat  as  I  entered  the 
room,  and  throwing  himself  back  at  full-length  upon 
an  ottoman.  "I  see/'  said  he,  perceiving  that  I 
could  not  immediately  reconcile  myself  to  the  Mense- 
ance  of  so  singular  a  welcome, — "I  see  you  are 
astonished  at  my  apartment,  at  my  statues,  my  pic 
tures,  my  originality  of  conception  in  architecture  and 


124 


THE     ASSIGNATION 

upholstery!  absolutely  drunk,  eh,  with  my  magnifi 
cence?  But  pardon  me,  my  dear  sir  (here  his  tone 
of  voice  dropped  to  the  very  spirit  of  cordiality), 
pardon  me  for  my  uncharitable  laughter.  You  ap 
peared  so  UTTERLY  astonished.  Besides,  some  things 
are  so  completely  ludicrous  that  a  man  MUST  laugh 
or  die.  To  die  laughing  must  be  the  most  glorious 
of  all  glorious  deaths !  Sir  Thomas  More. —  a  very 
fine  man  was  Sir  Thomas  More  —  Sir  Thomas  More 
died  laughing,  you  remember.  Also  in  the  Absurdities 
of  Ravisius  Textor  there  is  a  long  list  of  characters 
who  came  to  the  same  magnificent  end.  Do  you 
know,  however,"  continued  he,  musingly,  ''that  at 
Sparta  (which  is  now  Palseochori)  —  at  Sparta,  I 
say,  to  the  west  of  the  citadel,  among  a  chaos  of 
scarcely  visible  ruins,  is  a  kind  of  socle,  upon  which 
are  still  legible  the  letters  A  AIM.  They  are  un 
doubtedly  part  of  TEA  AIM  A.  Now,  at  Sparta  were 
a  thousand  temples  and  shrines  to  a  thousand  dif 
ferent  divinities.  How  exceedingly  strange  that  the 
altar  of  Laughter  should  have  survived  all  the 
others !  But  in  the  present  instance, ' '  he  resumed, 
with  a  singular  alteration  of  voice  and  manner,  "I 
have  no  right  to  be  merry  at  your  expense.  You 
might  well  have  been  amazed.  Europe  cannot  pro 
duce  anything  so  fine  as  this,  my  little  regal  cab 
inet.  My  other  apartments  are  by  no  means  of  the 
same  order  —  mere  ULTRAS  of  fashionable  insipidity. 
This  is  better  than  fashion,  is  it  not?  Yet  this  has 
but  to  be  seen  to  become  the  rage,  that  is,  with  those 
who  could  afford  it  at  the  cost  of  their  entire  patri- 


125 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 


mony.  I  have  guarded,  however,  against  any  such 
profanation.  With  one  exception,  you  are  the  only 
human  being,  besides  myself  and  my  VALET,  who  has 
been  admitted  within  the  mysteries  of  these  imperial 
precincts  since  they  have  been  bedizened  as  you 
see." 

I  bowed  in  acknowledgment;  for  the  overpower 
ing  sense  of  splendor  and  perfume  and  music,  to 
gether  with  the  unexpected  eccentricity  of  his  ad 
dress  and  manner,  prevented  me  from  expressing,  in 
words,  my  appreciation  of  what  I  might  have  con 
strued  into  a  compliment. 

"Here,"  he  resumed,  arising  and  leaning  on  my 
arm  as  he  sauntered  around  the  apartment,  "here 
are  paintings  from  the  Greeks  to  Cimabue,  and  from 
Cimabue  to  the  present  hour.  Many  are  chosen,  as 
you  see,  with  little  deference  to  the  opinions  of 
Virtu.  They  are  all,  however,  fitting  tapestry  for  a 
chamber  such  as  this.  Here,  too,  are  some  chefs- 
d'oeuvre  of  the  unknown  great;  and  here,  unfinished 
designs  by  men,  celebrated  in  their  day,  whose  very 
names  the  perspicacity  of  the  academies  has  left  to 
silence  and  to  me.  What  think  you,"  said  he,  turning 
abruptly  as  he  spoke, — "what  think  you  of  this 
Madonna  della  Pieta?" 

"It  is  Guide's  own!"  I  said,  with  all  the  en 
thusiasm  of  my  nature,  for  I  had  been  poring  intently 
over  its  surpassing  loveliness.  "It  is  Guido's  own! 
how  COULD  you  have  obtained  it?  she  is  undoubtedly 
in  painting  what  the  Venus  is  in  sculpture." 

"Ha!"  said  he,  thoughtfully,  "the  Venus?  — the 

126 


THE     ASSIGNATION 

beautiful  Venus  ?  —  the  Venus  of  the  Medici  ?  —  she 
of  the  diminutive  head  and  the  gilded  hair?  Part  of 
the  left  arm  [here  his  voice  dropped  so  as  to  be  heard 
with  difficulty]  and  all  the  right  are  restorations, 
and  in  the  coquetry  of  that  right  arm  lies,  I  think, 
the  quintessence  of  all  affectation.  Give  ME  the 
Canova!  The  Apollo,  too,  is  a  copy  —  there  can  be 
no  doubt  of  it  —  blind  fool  that  I  am,  who  cannot 
behold  the  boasted  inspiration  of  the  Apollo !  I  can 
not  help  —  pity  me  !  —  I  cannot  help  preferring  the 
Antinous.  Was  it  not  Socrates  who  said  that  the 
statuary  found  his  statue  in  the  block  of  marble? 
Then  Michael  Angelo  was  by  no  means  original  in 
his  couplet: 

'Non  ha  1'ottimo  artista  alcum  concetto 
Che  un  marmo  solo  in  se  non  circonscriva.'  " 

It  has  been,  or  should  be  remarked,  that,  in 
the  manner  of  the  true  gentleman,  we  are  always 
aware  of  a  difference  from  the  bearing  of  the  vulgar, 
without  being  at  once  precisely  able  to  determine  in 
what  such  difference  consists.  Allowing  the  remark 
to  have  applied  in  its  full  force  to  the  oiitward  de 
meanor  of  my  acquaintance,  I  felt  it,  on  that  event 
ful  morning,  still  more  fully  applicable  to  his  moral 
temperament  and  character.  Nor  can  I  better  de 
fine  that  peculiarity  of  spirit  which  seemed  to  place 
him  so  essentially  apart  from  all  other  human  beings 
than  by  calling  it  a  HABIT  of  intense  and  continual 
thought,  pervading  even  his  most  trivial  actions,  in- 

127 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

trading  upon  his  moments  of  dalliance,  and  inter 
weaving  itself  with  his  very  flashes  of  merriment, 
like  adders  which  writhe  from  out  the  eyes  of  the 
grinning  masks  in  the  cornices  around  the  temples  of 
Persepolis. 

I  could  not  help,  however,  repeatedly  observing, 
through  the  mingled  tone  of  levity  and  solemnity 
with  which  he  rapidly  descanted  upon  matters  of 
little  importance,  a  certain  air  of  trepidation,  a  de 
gree  of  nervous  UNCTION  in  action  and  in  speech  —  an 
unquiet  excitability  of  manner  which  appeared  to  me 
at  all  times  unaccountable,  and  upon  some  occasions 
even  filled  me  with  alarm.  Frequently,  too,  pausing 
in  the  middle  of  a  sentence  whose  commencement  he 
had  apparently  forgotten,  he  seemed  to  be  listening 
in  the  deepest  attention,  as  if  either  in  momentary 
expectation  of  a  visitor,  or  to  sounds  which  must 
have  had  existence  in  his  imagination  alone. 

It  was  during  one  of  these  reveries  or  pauses  of 
apparent  abstraction  that,  in  turning  over  a  page  of 
the  poet  and  scholar  Politian's  beautiful  tragedy,  the 
Orfco  (the  first  native  Italian  tragedy),  which  lay 
near  me  upon  an  ottoman,  I  discovered  a  passage 
underlined  in  pencil.  It  was  a  passage  toward  the 
end  of  the  third  act  —  a  passage  of  the  most  heart- 
stirring  excitement  —  a  passage  which,  although 
tainted  with  impurity,  no  man  shall  read  without  a 
thrill  of  novel  emotion  —  no  woman  without  a  sigh. 
The  whole  page  was  blotted  with  fresh  tears;  and 
upon  the  opposite  interleaf  were  the  following  Eng 
lish  lines,  written  in  a  hand  so  very  different  from 

128 


THE     ASSIGNATION 

the  peculiar  characters   of  my   acquaintance  that  I 
had  some  difficulty  in  recognizing  it  as  his  own : 

Thou  wast  that  all  to  me,  love, 

For  which  my  soul  did  pine: 
A  green  isle  in  the  sea,  love, 

A  fountain  and  a  shrine 
All  wreathed  with  fairy  fruits  and  flowers; 

And  all  the  flowers  were  mine. 

Ah,  dream  too  bright  to  last! 

Ah,  starry  Hope,  that  didst  arise 
But  to  be  overcast! 

A  voice  from  out  the  future  cries, 
"On!  on!" — but  o'er  the  past 

(Dim  gulf!)  my  spirit  hovering  lies, 
Mute  —  motionless  —  aghast! 

For  alas!  alas!  with  me 

The  light  of  life  is  o  'er. 
"No  more  —  no  more  —  no  more'7 

(Such  language  holds  the  solemn  sea 
To  the  sands  upon  the  shore) 

Shall  bloom  the  thunder-blasted  tree, 
Or  the  stricken  eagle  soar! 

Now  all  my  hours  are  trances; 

And  all  my  mightly  dreams 
Are  where  thy  gray  eye  glances, 

And  where  thy  footstep  gleams, 
In  what  ethereal  dances, 

By  what  Italian  streams. 

Alas!  for  that  accursed  time 

They  bore  thee  o  'er  the  billow, 
From  love  to  titled  age  and  crime, 

i — 9  129 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

And  an  unholy  pillow! 
From  me,  and  from  our  misty  clime, 
Where  weeps  the  silver  willow! 

That  these  lines  were  written  in  English,  a  lan 
guage  with  which  I  had  not  believed  their  author 
acquainted,  afforded  me  little  matter  for  surprise.  I 
was  too  well  aware  of  the  extent  of  his  acquirements, 
and  of  the  singular  pleasure  he  took  in  concealing 
them  from  observation,  to  be  astonished  at  any 
similar  discovery;  but  the  place  of  date,  I  must  con 
fess,  occasioned  me  no  little  amazement.  It  had  been 
originally  LONDON,  and  afterward  carefully  over- 
scored,  not,  however,  so  effectually  as  to  conceal  the 
word  from  a  scrutinizing  eye.  I  say,  this  occasioned 
me  no  little  amazement ;  for  I  well  remember  that,  in 
a  former  conversation  with  my  friend,  I  particularly 
inquired  if  he  had  at  any  time  met  in  London  the 
Marchesa  di  Mentoni,  who  for  some  years  previous  to 
her  marriage  had  resided  in  that  city,  when  his  an 
swer,  if  I  mistake  not,  gave  me  to  understand  that  he 
had  never  visited  the  metropolis  of  Great  Britain.  I 
might  as  well  here  mention  that  I  have  more  than  once 
heard,  without,  of  course,  giving  credit  to  a  report 
involving  so  many  improbabilities,  that  the  person  of 
whom  I  speak  was,  not  only  by  birth,  but  in  educa 
tion,  an  ENGLISHMAN. 

*  *  *  *  * 

" There  is  one  painting/'  said  he,  without  being 
aware  of  my  notice  of  the  tragedy, — ''there  is  still 
one  painting  which  you  have  not  seen."  And, 

130 


THE     ASSIGNATION 


throwing  aside  a  drapery,  he  discovered  a  full-length 
portrait  of  the  Marchesa  Aphrodite. 

Human  art  could  have  done  no  more  in  the 
delineation  of  her  superhuman  beauty.  The  same 
ethereal  figure  which  stood  before  me  the  preceding 
night  upon  the  steps  of  the  Ducal  Palace  stood  before 
me  once  again.  But  in  the  expression  of  the  coun 
tenance,  which  was  beaming  all  over  with  smiles, 
there  still  lurked  (incomprehensible  anomaly!)  that 
fitful  stain  of  melancholy  which  will  ever  be  found 
inseparable  from  the  perfection  of  the  beautiful.  Her 
right  arm  lay  folded  over  her  bosom.  With  her  left 
she  pointed  downward  to  a  curiously  fashioned  vase. 
One  small,  fairy  foot,  alone  visible,  barely  touched 
the  earth;  and,  scarcely  discernible  in  the  brilliant 
atmosphere  which  seemed  to  encircle  and  enshrine 
her  loveliness,  floated  a  pair  of  the  most  delicately 
imagined  wings.  My  glance  fell  from  the  painting 
to  the  figure  of  my  friend  and  the  vigorous  words  of 
Chapman's  Bussy  d'Ambois  quivered  instinctively 
upon  my  lips  : 

is  up 

There  like  a  Eoman  statue!     He  will  stand 
Till  Death  hath  made  him  marble  !" 

"Come,"  he  said  at  length,  turning  toward  a  table 
of  richly  enamelled  and  massive  silver,  upon  which 
were  a  few  goblets  fantastically  stained,  together 
with  two  large  Etruscan  vases,  fashioned  in  the  same 
extraordinary  model  as  that  in  the  foreground  of  the 
portrait,  and  filled  with  what  I  supposed  to  be 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

Johannisberger.  ''Come,"  he  said,  abruptly,  "let  us 
drink!  it  is  early,  but  let  us  drink.  It  is  INDEED 
early,"  he  continued,  musingly,  as  a  cherub  with  a 
heavy  golden  hammer  made  the  apartment  ring  with 
the  first  hour  after  sunrise:  "it  is  indeed  early,  but 
what  matters  it?  let  us  drink!  Let  us  pour  out  an 
offering  to  yon  solemn  sun  which  these  gaudy  lamps 
and  censers  are  so  eager  to  subdue!"  And  having 
made  me  pledge  him  in  a  bumper,  he  swallowed  in 
rapid  succession  several  goblets  of  the  wine. 

"To  dream,"  he  continued,  resuming  the  tone  of 
his  desultory  conversation,  as  he  held  up  to  the  rich 
light  of  a  censer  one  of  the  magnificent  vases,  "to 
dream  has  been  the  business  of  my  life ;  I  have  there 
fore  framed  for  myself,  as  you  see,  a  bower  of 
dreams.  In  the  heart  of  Venice  could  I  have  erected 
a  better?  You  behold  around  you,  it  is  true,  a 
medley  of  architectural  embellishments.  The  chas 
tity  of  Ionia  is  offended  by  antediluvian  devices,  and 
the  sphinxes  of  Egypt  are  outstretched  upon  carpets 
of  gold.  Yet  the  effect  is  incongruous  to  the  timid 
alone.  Proprieties  of  place,  and  especially  of  time, 
are  the  bugbears  which  terrify  mankind  from  the  con 
templation  of  the  magnificent.  Once  I  was  myself  a 
decorist;  but  that  sublimation  of  folly  has  palled 
upon  my  soul.  All  this  is  now  the  fitter  for  my 
purpose.  Like  these  arabesque  censers,  my  spirit  is 
writhing  in  fire,  and  the  delirium  of  this  scene  is 
fashioning  me  for  the  wilder  visions  of  that  land  of 
real  dreams  whither  I  am  now  rapidly  departing." 
He  here  paused  abruptly,  bent  his  head  to  his  bosom, 


132 


THE     ASSIGNATION 

and  seemed  to  listen  to  a  sound  which  I  could  not 
hear.  At  length,  erecting  his  frame,  he  looked  up 
wards  and  ejaculated  the  lines  of  the  Bishop  of 
Chichester : — 

"Stay  for  me  there!     I  will  not  fail 
To  meet  thee  in  that  hollow  vale. ' ' 

In  the  next  instant,  confessing  the  power  of  the 
wine,  he  threw  himself  at  full  length  upon  an  otto 
man. 

A  quick  step  was  now  heard  upon  the  staircase, 
and  a  loud  knock  at  the  door  rapidly  succeeded.  I 
was  hastening  to  anticipate  a  second  disturbance 
when  a  page  of  Mentoni's  household  burst  into  the 
room  and  faltered  out,  in  a  voice  choking  with  emo 
tion,  the  incoherent  words :  '  *  My  mistress !  —  my 
mistress !  —  Poisoned !  —  poisoned !  Oh,  beautiful  - 
oh,  beautiful  Aphrodite!" 

Bewildered,  I  flew  to  the  ottoman  and  endeavored 
to  arouse  the  sleeper  to  a  sense  of  the  startling  in 
telligence.  But  his  limbs  were  rigid  —  his  lips  were 
livid  —  his  lately  beaming  eyes  were  riveted  in  death. 
I  staggered  back  toward  the  table,  my  hand  fell  upon 
a  cracked  and  blackened  goblet,  and  a  consciousness 
of  the  entire  and  terrible  truth  flashed  suddenly  over 
my  soul. 


MORELLA 


AUTO  7)a(?  aur6  /j.s&'   aurou,    jaovoetdes  as}   <5i>. 
Itself,  by  itself  solely,  one  everlastingly,  and  single. 

PLATO  —  Sympos. 


ITH  a  feeling  of  deep  yet  most  singular 

\    A    /        affection  I  regarded  my  friend  Morella. 

y    y  Thrown   by   accident   into   her   society 

many    years    ago,    my   soul,    from    our 

first  meeting,  burned  with  fires  it  had 

never  before  known;  but  the  fires  were  not  of  Eros, 

and   bitter    and    tormenting   to    my   spirit    was    the 

gradual  conviction  that  I  could  in  no  manner  define 

their  unusual  meaning,  or  regulate  their  vague  in 

tensity.    Yet  we  met;  and  fate  bound  us  together  at 

the  altar;  and  I  never  spoke  of  passion,  nor  thought 

of  love.  She,  however,  shunned  society,  and,  attaching 

herself  to  me  alone,  rendered  me  happy.    It  is  a  hap 

piness  to  wonder;  —  it  is  a  happiness  to  dream. 

Morella  's  erudition  was  profound.  As  I  hope  to 
live,  her  talents  were  of  no  common  order  —  her 
powers  of  mind  were  gigantic.  I  felt  this,  and,  in 
many  matters,  became  her  pupil.  I  soon,  however, 
found  that,  perhaps  on  account  of  her  Presburg 
education,  she  placed  before  me  a  number  of  those 
mystical  writings  which  are  usually  considered  the 


Vol.    1 


'34 


MO  RELLA 

mere  dross  of  the  early  German  literature.  These, 
for  what  reason  I  could  not  imagine,  were  her  favorite 
and  constant  study  —  and  that,  in  process  of  time, 
they  became  my  own,  should  be  attributed  to  the 
simple  but  effectual  influence  of  habit  and  example. 

In  all  this,  if  I  err  not,  my  reason  had  little  to 
do.  My  convictions,  or  I  forget  myself,  were  in  no 
manner  acted  upon  by  the  ideal,  nor  was  any  tincture 
of  the  mysticism  which  I  read,  to  be  discovered,  un 
less  I  am  greatly  mistaken,  either  in  my  deeds  or  in 
my  thoughts.  Persuaded  of  this,  I  abandoned  my 
self  implicitly  to  the  guidance  of  my  wife,  and  entered 
with  an  unflinching  heart  into  the  intricacies  of  her 
studies.  And  then  —  then,  when,  poring  over  for 
bidden  pages,  I  felt  a  forbidden  spirit  enkindling 
within  me  —  would  Morella  place  her  cold  hand  upon 
my  own,  and  rake  up  from  the  ashes  of  a  dead 
philosophy  some  low,  singular  words,  whose  strange 
meaning  burned  themselves  in  upon  my  memory. 
And  then,  hour  after  hour  would  I  linger  by  her  side, 
and  dwell  upon  the  music  of  her  voice  —  until,  at 
length,  its  melody  was  tainted  with  terror,  and  there 
fell  a  shadow  upon  my  soul  —  and  I  grew  pale  and 
shuddered  inwardly  at  those  too  unearthly  tones. 
And  thus,  joy  suddenly  faded  into  horror,  and  the 
most  beautiful  became  the  most  hideous,  as  Hinnon 
became  Ge-Henna. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  state  the  exact  character  of 
those  disquisitions  which,  growing  out  of  the  volumes 
I  have  mentioned,  formed,  for  so  long  a  time,  almost 


135 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

the  sole  conversation  of  Morella  and  myself.  By  the 
learned  in  what  might  be  termed  theological  morality 
they  will  be  readily  conceived,  and  by  the  unlearned 
they  would,  at  all  events,  be  little  understood.  The 
wild  Pantheism  of  Fichte ;  the  modified  UaX^ysveffta 
of  Pythagoreans;  and,  above  all,  the  doctrines  of 
Identity  as  urged  by  Schelling,  were  generally  the 
points  of  discussion  presenting  the  most  of  beauty  to 
the  imaginative  Morella.  That  identity  which  is 
termed  personal,  Mr.  Locke,  I  think,  truly  defines  to 
consist  in  the  saneness  of  a  rational  being.  And 
since  by  PERSON  we  understand  an  intelligent  essence 
having  reason,  and  since  there  is  a  consciousness 
which  always  accompanies  thinking,  it  is  this  which 
makes  us  all  to  be  that  which  we  call  OURSELVES  — 
thereby  distinguishing  us  from  other  beings  that 
think,  and  giving  us  our  personal  identity.  But  the 
principium  individuationis  —  the  notion  of  that  iden 
tity  WHICH  AT  DEATH  IS  OR  IS  NOT  LOST  FOREVER  — 

was  to  me,  at  all  times,  a  consideration  of  intense 
interest;  not  more  from  the  perplexing  and  exciting 
nature  of  its  consequences,  than  from  the  marked 
and  agitated  manner  in  which  Morella  mentioned 
them. 

But,  indeed,  the  time  had  now  arrived  when  the 
mystery  of  my  wife's  manner  oppressed  me  as  a 
spell.  I  could  no  longer  bear  the  touch  of  her  wan 
fingers,  nor  the  low  tone  of  her  musical  language, 
nor  the  lustre  of  her  melancholy  eyes.  And  she 
knew  all  this,  but  did  not  upbraid;  she  seemed 


MORELLA 

conscious  of  my  weakness  or  my  folly,  and,  smiling, 
called  it  Fate.  She  seemed  also  conscious  of  a  cause, 
to  me  unknown,  for  the  gradual  alienation  of  my 
regard;  but  she  gave  me  no  hint  or  token  of  its 
nature.  Yet  was  she  woman,  and  pined  away  daily. 
In  time,  the  crimson  spot  settled  steadily  upon  the 
cheek,  and  the  blue  veins  upon  the  pale  forehead 
became  prominent;  and,  one  instant,  my  nature 
melted  into  pity,  but,  in  the  next,  I  met  the  glance 
of  her  meaning  eyes,  and  then  my  soul  sickened  and 
became  giddy  with  the  giddiness  of  one  who  gazes 
downward  into  some  dreary  and  unfathomable  abyss. 

Shall  I  then  say  that  I  longed  with  an  earnest 
and  consuming  desire  for  the  moment  of  Morella's 
decease?  I  did;  but  the  fragile  spirit  clung  to  its 
tenement  of  clay  for  many  days  — for  many  weeks 
and  irksome  months  —  until  my  tortured  nerves  ob 
tained  the  mastery  over  my  mind,  and  I  grew  furious 
through  delay,  and,  with  the  heart  of  a  fiend,  cursed 
the  days,  and  the  hours,  and  the  bitter  moments, 
which  seemed  to  lengthen  and  lengthen  as  her  gentle 
life  declined  —  like  shadows  in  the  dying  of  the  day. 

But  one  autumnal  evening,  when  the  winds  lay 
still  in  heaven,  Morella  called  me  to  her  bedside. 
There  was  a  dim  mist  over  all  the  earth,  and  a  warm 
glow  upon  the  waters,  and,  amid  the  rich  October 
leaves  of  the  forest,  a  rainbow  from  the  firmament 
had  surely  fallen. 

"It  is  a  day  of  days,"  she  said,  as  I  approached; 
"a  day  of  all  days  either  to  live  or  die.  It  is  a 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

fair  day  for  the  sons  of  earth  and  life  —  ah,  more 
fair  for  the  daughters  of  heaven  and  death!" 

I  kissed  her  forehead  and  she  continued: 

"I  am  dying,  yet  shall  I  live." 

"Morella!" 

"The  days  have  never  been  when  thou  couldst 
love  me  —  but  her  whom  in  life  thou  didst  abhor, 
in  death  thou  shalt  adore." 

"Morella!" 

"I  repeat  that  I  am  dying.  But  within  me  is  a 
pledge  of  that  affection  —  ah,  how  little !  —  which 
thou  didst  feel  for  me,  Morella.  And  when  my 
spirit  departs  shall  the  child  live  —  thy  child  and 
mine,  Morella 's.  But  thy  days  shall  be  days  of 
sorrow  —  that  sorrow  which  is  the  most  lasting  of 
impressions,  as  the  cypress  is  the  most  enduring  of 
trees.  For  the  hours  of  thy  happiness  are  over;  and 
joy  is  not  gathered  twice  in  a  life,  as  the  roses  of 
Paestum  twice  in  a  year.  Thou  shalt  no  longer,  then, 
play  the  Teian  with  time,  but,  being  ignorant  of  the 
myrtle  and  the  vine,  thou  shalt  bear  about  with  thee 
thy  shroud  on  the  earth,  as  do  the  Moslemin  at 
Mecca." 

"Morella!"  I  cried,  "Morella!  how  knowest  thou 
this  ? "-  -  But  she  turned  away  her  face  upon  the  pil 
low,  and,  a  slight  tremor  coming  over  her  limbs,  she 
thus  died,  and  I  heard  her  voice  no  more. 

Yet,  as  she  had  foretold,  her  child  —  to  which  in 
dying  she  had  given  birth,  which  breathed  not  until 
the  mother  breathed  no  more  —  her  child,  a  daugh 
ter,  lived.  And  she  grew  strangely  in  stature  and 


MORELLA 

intellect,  and  was  the  perfect  resemblance  of  her  who 
had  departed,  and  I  loved  her  with  a  love  more 
fervent  than  I  had  believed  it  possible  to  feel  for  any 
denizen  of  earth. 

But,  ere  long,  the  heaven  of  this  pure  affection 
became  darkened,  and  gloom,  and  horror,  and  grief, 
swept  over  it  in  clouds.  I  said  the  child  grew 
strangely  in  stature  and  intelligence.  Strange,  in 
deed,  was  her  rapid  increase  in  bodily  size  —  but 
terrible,  oh!  terrible  were  the  tumultuous  thoughts 
which  crowded  upon  me  while  watching  the  develop 
ment  of  her  mental  being!  Could  it  be  otherwise, 
when  I  daily  discovered  in  the  conceptions  of  the 
child  the  adult  powers  and  faculties  of  the  woman? 
-when  the  lessons  of  experience  fell  from  the  lips 
of  infancy?  and  when  the  wisdom  or  the  passions  of 
maturity  I  found  hourly  gleaming  from  its  full  and 
speculative  eye  ?  When,  I  say,  all  this  became  evident 
to  my  appalled  senses  —  when  I  could  no  longer  hide 
it  from  my  soul,  nor  throw  it  off  from  those  percep 
tions  which  trembled  to  receive  it  —  is  it  to  be  won 
dered  at  that  suspicions,  of  a  nature  fearful 
and  exciting,  crept  in  upon  my  spirit,  or  that  my 
thoughts  fell  back  aghast  upon  the  wild  tales  and 
thrilling  theories  of  the  entombed  Morella?  I 
snatched  from  the  scrutiny  of  the  world  a  being 
whom  destiny  compelled  me  to  adore,  and  in  the 
rigorous  seclusion  of  my  home,  watched  with  an 
agonizing  anxiety  over  all  which  concerned  the  be 
loved. 

And,  as  years  rolled  away,  and  I  gazed,  day  after 

»J9 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

day,  upon  her  holy,  and  mild,  and  eloquent  face, 
and  pored  over  her  maturing  form,  day  after  day 
did  I  discover  new  points  of  resemblance  in  the  child 
to  her  mother,  the  melancholy  and  the  dead.  And, 
hourly,  grew  darker  these  shadows  of  similitude, 
and  more  full,  and  more  definite,  and  more  perplex 
ing,  and  more  hideously  terrible  in  their  aspect.  For 
that  her  smile  was  like  her  mother's  I  could  bear, 
but  then  I  shuddered  at  its  too  perfect  IDENTITY - 
that  her  eyes  were  like  Morella's  I  could  endure;  but 
then  they  too  often  looked  down  into  the  depths  of 
my  soul  with  Morella's  own  intense  and  bewildering 
meaning.  And  in  the  contour  of  the  high  forehead, 
and  in  the  ringlets  of  the  silken  hair,  and  in  the  wan 
fingers  which  buried  themselves  therein,  and  in  the 
sad,  musical  tones  of  her  speech,  and  above  all  —  oh ! 
above  all  —  in  the  phrases  and  expressions  of  the 
dead  on  the  lips  of  the  loved  and  the  living,  I 
found  food  for  consuming  thought  and  horror  —  for 
a  worm  that  WOULD  not  die. 

Thus  passed  away  two  lustra  of  her  life,  and,  as 
yet,  my  daughter  remained  nameless  upon  the  earth. 
"My  child,"  and  "my  love"  were  the  designations 
usually  prompted  by  a  father's  affection,  and  the 
rigid  seclusion  of  her  days  precluded  all  other  inter 
course.  Morella's  name  died  with  her  at  her  death. 
Of  the  mother  I  had  never  spoken  to  the  daughter ;  — 
it  was  impossible  to  speak.  Indeed,  during  the  brief 
period  of  her  existence,  the  latter  had  received  no 
impressions  from  the  outer  world,  save  such  as  might 
have  been  afforded  by  the  narrow  limits  of  h<sr 


140 


MORELLA 


privacy.  But  at  length  the  ceremony  of  baptism 
presented  to  my  mind,  in  its  unnerved  and  agitated 
condition,  a  present  deliverance  from  the  terrors  of 
my  destiny.  And  at  the  baptismal  fount  I  hesitated 
for  a  name.  And  many  titles  of  the  wise  and  beauti 
ful,  of  old  and  modern  times,  of  my  own  and  foreign 
lands,  came  thronging  to  my  lips,  with  many,  many 
fair  titles  of  the  gentle,  and  the  happy,  and  the  good. 
What  prompted  me,  then,  to  disturb  the  memory  of 
the  buried  dead?  "What  demon  urged  me  to  breathe 
that  sound,  which,  in  its  very  recollection,  was  wont 
to  make  ebb  the  purple  blood  in  torrents  from  the 
temples  to  the  heart?  What  fiend  spoke  from  the 
recesses  of  my  soul,  when,  amid  those  dim  aisles,  and 
in  the  .silence  of  the  night,  I  whispered  within  the 
ears  of  the  holy  man  the  syllables  —  Morella  ?  What 
more  than  fiend  convulsed  the  features  of  my  child, 
and  overspread  them  with  hues  of  death,  as  starting 
at  that  scarcely  audible  sound,  she  turned  her  glassy 
eyes  from  the  earth  to  heaven,  and,  falling  prostrate 
on  the  black  slabs  of  our  ancestral  vault,  responded 
-"I  am  here!" 

Distinct,  coldly,  calmly  distinct,  fell  those  few 
simple  sounds  within  my  ear,  and  thence,  like  molten 
lead,  rolled  hissingly  into  my  brain.  Years  —  years 
may  pass  away,  but  the  memory  of  that  epoch  — 
never !  Nor  was  I  indeed  ignorant  of  the  flowers  and 
the  vine;  but  the  hemlock  and  the  cypress  over 
shadowed  me  night  and  day.  And  I  kept  no  reckon 
ing  of  time  or  place,  and  the  stars  of  my  fate  faded 
from  heaven,  and  therefore  the  earth  grew  dark,  and 


141 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

its  figures  passed  by  me,  like  flitting  shadows,  and 
among  them  all  I  beheld  only  —  Morella.  The  winds 
of  the  firmament  breathed  but  one  sound  within  my 
ears,  and  the  ripples  upon  the  sea  murmured  ever 
more —  Morella.  But  she  died;  and  with  my  own 
hands  I  bore  her  to  the  tomb;  and  I  laughed  with  a 
long  and  bitter  laugh  as  I  found  no  traces  of  the 
first,  in  the  charnel  where  I  laid  the  second,  Morella. 


O 


142 


BON-BON 

Quand  un  bon  vin  meuble  mon  estomac, 

Je  suis  plus  savant  que  Balzac, 

Plus  sage  que  Pibrac; 

Mon  bras  seul  faisant  1'attaque 

De  la  nation  Cossaque, 

La  mettroit  au  sac; 

De  Charon  je  passerois  le  lac 

En  dormant  dans  son  bac; 

J'irois  au  fier  Eac, 

Sans  que  mon  co3ur  fit  tic  ni  tac, 

Presenter  du  tabac. 

French  Vaudeville. 

HAT  Pierre  Bon-Bon  was  a  restaurateur 
of  uncommon  qualifications,  no  man 
who,  during  the  reign  of  — ,  fre 
quented  the  little  cafe  in  the  cul-de- 
sac  Le  Febvre  at  Kouen,  will,  I  imag 
ine,  feel  himself  at  liberty  to  dispute.  That  Pierre 
Bon-Bon  was,  in  an  equal  degree,  skilled  in  the 
philosophy  of  that  period  is,  I  presume,  still  more 
especially  undeniable.  His  pates  a  la  fois  were  be 
yond  doubt  immaculate;  but  what  pen  can  do  justice 
to  his  essays  sur  la  nature;  his  thoughts  sur  Vdme; 
his  observations  sur  V esprit f  If  his  omelettes  —  if 
his  fricandeaux  were  inestimable,  what  litterateur  of 
that  day  would  not  have  given  twice  as  much  for  an 
"Idee  de  Bon-Bon"  as  for  all  the  trash  of  all  the 
"Idees"  of  all  the  rest  of  the  SAVANTS?  Bon-Bon 
had  ransacked  libraries  which  no  other  man  had 

143 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

ransacked  —  had  read  more  than  any  other  would 
have  entertained  a  notion  of  reading  —  had  under 
stood  more  than  any  other  would  have  conceived  the 
possibility  of  understanding;  and  although,  while  he 
flourished,  there  were  not  wanting  some  authors  at 
Rouen  to  assert  that  "  his  dicta  evinced  neither  the 
purity  of  the  Academy  nor  the  depth  of  the  Lyceum/' 
although,  mark  me,  his  doctrines  were  by  no  means 
very  generally  comprehended,  still  it  did  not  follow 
that  they  were  difficult  of  comprehension.  It  was, 
I  think,  on  account  of  their  self-evidency  that  many 
persons  were  led  to  consider  them  abstruse.  It  is 
to  Bon-Bon  —  but  let  this  go  no  farther  —  it  is  to 
Bon-Bon  that  Kant  himself  is  mainly  indebted  for  his 
metaphysics.  The  former  was  indeed  not  a  Platonist, 
nor,  strictly  speaking,  an  Aristotelian  —  nor  did  he, 
like  the  modern  Leibnitz,  waste  those  precious  hours 
which  might  be  employed  in  the  invention  of  a 
fricassee  or,  facili  gradu,  the  analysis  of  a  sensation, 
in  frivolous  attempts  at  reconciling  the  obstinate 
oils  and  waters  of  ethical  discussion.  Not  at  all. 
Bon-Bon  was  Ionic;  Bon-Bon  was  equally  Italic. 
He  reasoned  a  priori;  he  reasoned  a  posteriori.  His 
ideas  were  innate,  or  otherwise.  He  believed  in 
George  of  Trebizond;  be  believed  in  Bossarion.  Bon- 
Bon  was  emphatically  a  —  Bon-Bonist. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  philosopher  in  his  capacity 
of  restaurateur.  I  would  not,  however,  have  any 
friend  of  mine  imagine  that,  in  fulfilling  his  hered 
itary  duties  in  that  line,  our  hero  wanted  a  proper 
estimation  of  their  dignity  and  importance.  Far 


144 


BON-BON 

from  it.  It  was  impossible  to  say  in  which  branch 
of  his  profession  he  took  the  greater  pride.  In  his 
opinion  the  powers  of  the  intellect  held  intimate 
connection  with  the  capabilities  of  the  stomach.  I 
am  not  sure,  indeed,  that  he  greatly  disagreed  with 
the  Chinese,  who  hold  that  the  soul  lies  in  the  abdo 
men.  The  Greeks  at  all  events  were  right,  he  thought, 
who  employed  the  same  word  for  the  mind  and  the 
diaphragm.*  By  this  I  do  not  mean  to  insinuate  a 
charge  of  gluttony,  or  indeed  any  other  serious  charge 
to  the  prejudice  of  the  metaphysician.  If  Pierre  Bon- 
Bon  had  his  failings,  —  and  what  great  man  has  not 
a  thousand?  —  if  Pierre  Bon-Bon,  I  say,  had  his  fail 
ings,  they  were  failings  of  very  little  importance  — 
faults  indeed  which,  in  other  tempers,  have  often 
been  looked  upon  rather  in  the  light  of  virtues.  As 
regards  one  of  these  foibles,  I  should  not  even  have 
mentioned  it  in  this  history  but  for  the  remarkable 
prominency,  the  extreme  alto  relievo,  in  which  it 
jutted  out  from  the  plane  of  his  general  disposition. 
He  could  never  let  slip  an  opportunity  of  making  a 
bargain. 

Not  that  he  was  avaricious  —  no.  It  was  by  no 
means  necessary  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  philosopher 
that  the  bargain  should  be  to  his  own  proper  advan 
tage.  Provided  a  trade  could  be  effected  —  a  trade 
of  any  kind,  upon  any  terms,  or  under  any  circum 
stances  —  a  triumphant  smile  was  seen  for  many  days 
thereafter  to  enlighten  his  countenance,  and  a  know- 


I  —  10  145 


EDGAR    ALLAN     POE 

ing  wink  of  the  eye  to  give  evidence  of  his  sagacity. 

At  any  epoch  it  would  not  be  very  wonderful  if 
a  humor  so  peculiar  as  the  one  I  have  just  mentioned 
should  elicit  attention  and  remark.  At  the  epoch  of 
our  narrative,  had  this  peculiarity  NOT  attracted 
observation,  there  would  have  been  room  for  wonder 
indeed.  It  was  soon  reported  that,  upon  all  occa 
sions  of  the  kind,  the  smile  of  Bon-Bon  was  found 
to  differ  widely  from  the  downright  grin  with  which 
he  would  laugh  at  his  own  jokes  or  welcome  an  ac 
quaintance.  Hints  were  thrown  out  of  an  exciting 
nature;  stories  were  told  of  perilous  bargains  made 
in  a  hurry  and  repented  of  at  leisure;  and  instances 
were  adduced  of  unaccountable  capacities,  vague 
longings,  and  unnatural  inclinations  implanted  by  the 
author  of  all  evil  for  wise  purposes  of  his  own. 

The  philosopher  had  other  weaknesses,  but  they 
are  scarcely  worthy  our  serious  examination.  For 
example,  there  are  few  men  of  extraordinary  pro 
fundity  who  are  found  wanting  in  an  inclination  for 
the  bottle.  Whether  this  inclination  be  an  exciting 
cause,  or  rather  a  valid  proof,  of  such  profundity,  it 
is  a  nice  thing  to  say.  Bon-Bon,  as  far  as  I  can 
learn,  did  not  think  the  subject  adapted  to  minute 
investigation;  nor  do  I.  Yet  in  the  indulgence  of  a 
propensity  so  truly  classical,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed 
that  the  restaurateur  would  lose  sight  of  that  intui 
tive  discrimination  which  was  wont  to  characterize, 
at  one  and  the  same  time,  his  essais  and  his  omelettes. 
In  his  seclusions  the  Vin  de  Bourgogne  had  its 
allotted  hour,  and  there  were  appropriate  moments 

146 


BON-BON 

for  the  Cotes  du  Rhone.  With  him  Sauterne  was  to 
Medoc  what  Catullus  was  to  Homer.  He  would  sport 
with  a  syllogism  in  sipping  St.  Peray,  but  unravel  an 
argument  over  Clos  de  Vougeot,  and  upset  a  theory 
in  a  torrent  of  Chambertin.  Well  had  it  been  if  the 
same  quick  sense  of  propriety  had  attended  him  in  the 
peddling  propensity  to  which  I  have  formerly  al 
luded  ;  but  this  was  by  no  means  the  case.  Indeed,  to 
say  the  truth,  THAT  trait  of  mind  in  the  philosophic 
Bon-Bon  DID  begin  at  length  to  assume  a  character 
of  strange  intensity  and  mysticism,  and  appeared 
deeply  tinctured  with  the  diablerie  of  his  favorite 
German  studies. 

To  enter  the  little  cafe  in  the  cul-de-sac  Le  Febvre 
was,  at  the  period  of  our  tale,  to  enter  the  sanctum 
of  a  man  of  genius.  Bon-Bon  was  a  man  of  genius. 
There  was  not  a  sous-cuisinier  in  Rouen,  who  could 
not  have  told  you  that  Bon-Bon  was  a  man  of  genius. 
His  very  cat  knew  it,  and  forbore  to  whisk  her  tail 
in  the  presence  of  the  man  of  genius.  His  large 
Water-dog  was  acquainted  with  the  fact,  and  upon  the 
approach  of  his  master  betrayed  his  sense  of  in 
feriority  by  a  sanctity  of  deportment,  a  debasement 
of  the  ears,  and  a  dropping  of  the  lower  jaw  not  al 
together  unworthy  of  a  dog.  It  is,  however,  true 
that  much  of  this  habitual  respect  might  have  been 
attributed  to  the  personal  appearance  of  the  meta 
physician.  A  distinguished  exterior  will,  I  am  con 
strained  to  say,  have  its  way  even  with  a  beast;  and 
I  am  willing  to  allow  much  in  the  outward  man  of 
the  restaurateur  calculated  to  impress  the  imagina- 

147 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

tion  of  the  quadruped.  There  is  a  peculiar  majesty 
about  the  atmosphere  of  the  little  great  (if  I  may  be 
permitted  so  equivocal  an  expression),  which  mere 
physical  bulk  alone  will  be  found  at  all  times  in 
efficient  in  creating.  If,  however,  Bon-Bon  was 
barely  three  feet  in  height,  and  if  his  head  was 
diminutively  small,  still  it  was  impossible  to  behold 
the  rotundity  of  his  stomach  without  a  sense  of 
magnificence  nearly  bordering  upon  the  sublime.  In 
its  size  both  dogs  and  men  must  have  seen  a  type  of  his 
acquirements;  in  its  immensity,  a  fitting  habitation 
for  his  immortal  soul. 

I  might  here  —  if  it  so  pleased  me  —  dilate  upon 
the  matter  of  habiliment,  and  other  mere  circum 
stances  of  the  external  metaphysician.  I  might  hint 
that  the  hair  of  our  hero  was  worn  short,  combed 
smoothly  over  his  forehead,  and  surmounted  by  a 
conical-shaped  white  flannel  cap  and  tassels ;  that  his 
pea-green  jerkin  was  not  after  the  fashion  of  those 
worn  by  the  common  class  of  restaurateurs  at  that 
day;  that  the  sleeves  were  something  fuller  than  the 
reigning  costume  permitted  —  that  the  cuffs  were 
turned  up,  not  as  usual  in  that  barbarous  period, 
with  cloth  of  the  same  quality  and  color  as  the  gar 
ment,  but  faced  in  a  more  fanciful  manner  with  the 
party-colored  velvet  of  Genoa;  that  his  slippers  were 
of  a  bright  purple,  curiously  filigreed,  and  might 
have  been  manufactured  in  Japan  but  for  the  exqui 
site  pointing  of  the  toes  and  the  brilliant  tints  of 
the  binding  and  embroidery;  that  his  breeches  were 
of  the  yellow  satin-like  material  called  aimaUe;,  that 

148 


BON-BON 

his  sky-blue  cloak,  resembling  in  form  a  dressing- 
wrapper,  and  richly  bestudded  all  over  with  crimson 
devices,  floated  cavalierly  upon  his  shoulders  like  a 
mist  of  the  morning;  and  that  his  tout  ensemble  gave 
rise  to  the  remarkable  words  of  the  Benevenuta, 
Improvisatrice  of  Florence,  that  "it  was  difficult  to 
say  whether  Pierre  Bon-Bon  was  indeed  a  bird  of 
paradise,  or  the  rather  a  very  paradise  of  perfection." 
I  might,  I  say,  expatiate  upon  all  these  points  if  I 
pleased,  but  I  forbear:  merely  personal  details  may 
be  left  to  historical  novelists;  they  are  beneath  the 
moral  dignity  of  matter-of-fact. 

I  have  said  that  "to  enter  the  cafe  in  the  cul-de-sac 
Le  Febvre  was  to  enter  the  SANCTUM  of  a  man  of 
genius;"  but  then  it  was  only  the  man  of  genius 
who  could  duly  estimate  the  merits  of  the  sanctum. 
A  sign,  consisting  of  a  vast  folio,  swung  before  the 
entrance.  On  one  side  of  the  volume  was  painted  a 
bottle;  on  the  reverse  a  pate.  On  the  back  were 
visible  in  large  letters  "CEuvres  de  Bon-Bon."  Thus 
was  delicately  shadowed  forth  the  twofold  occupa 
tion  of  the  proprietor. 

Upon  stepping  over  the  threshold,  the  whole  in 
terior  of  the  building  presented  itself  to  view.  A 
long,  low-pitched  room,  of  antique  construction,  was 
indeed  all  the  accommodation  afforded  by  the  cafe. 
In  a  corner  of  the  apartment  stood  the  bed  of  the 
metaphysician.  An  array  of  curtains,  together  with 
a  canopy  a  la  Orecque  gave  it  an  air  at  once  classic 
and  comfortable.  In  the  corner  diagonally  opposite 
appeared,  in  direct  family  communion,  the  properties 

149 


O 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

of  the  kitchen  and  the  UUiotheque.  A  dish  of 
polemics  stood  peacefully  upon  the  dresser.  Here 
lay  an  ovenful  of  the  latest  ethics,  there  a  kettle  of 
duodecimo  melanges.  Volumes  of  German  morality 
were  hand  and  glove  with  the  gridiron;  a  toasting- 
fork  might  be  discovered  by  the  side  of  Eusebius; 
Plato  reclined  at  his  ease  in  the  frying-pan;  and 
contemporary  manuscripts  were  filed  away  upon  the 
spit. 

In  other  respects  the  Cafe  de  Bon-Bon  might  be 
said  to  differ  little  from  the  usual  restaurants  of  the 
period.  A  large  fireplace  yawned  opposite  the  door. 
On  the  right  of  the  fireplace  an  open  cupboard  dis 
played  a  formidable  array  of  labelled  bottles. 

It  was  here,  about  twelve  o'clock  one  night,  dur 
ing  the  severe  winter  of  — ,  that  Pierre  Bon-Bon, 
after  having  listened  for  some  time  to  the  comments 
of  his  neighbors  upon  his  singular  propensity,— 
that  Pierre  Bon-Bon,  I  say,  having  turned  them  all 
out  of  his  house,  locked  the  door  upon  them  with  an 
oath  and  betook  himself  in  no  very  pacific  mood  to 
the  comforts  of  a  leather-bottomed  armchair  and  a 
fire  of  blazing  fagots. 

It  was  one  of  those  terrific  nights  which  are  only 
met  with  once  or  twice  during  a  century.  It  snowed 
rj  fiercely,  and  the  house  tottered  to  its  center  with  the 
floods  of  wind  that,  rushing  through  the  crannies  of 
the  wall,  and  pouring  impetuously  down  the  chimney, 
shook  awfully  the  curtains  of  the  philosopher's  bed 
and  disorganized  the  economy  of  his  pate  pans  and 
papers.  The  huge  folio  sign  that  swung  without,  ex- 

150 


BON-BON 

posed  to  the  fury  of  the  tempest,  creaked  ominously, 
and  gave  out  a  moaning  sound  from  its  stanchions  of 
solid  oak. 

It  was  in  no  placid  temper,  I  say,  that  the  meta 
physician  drew  up  his  chair  to  its  customary  station 
by  the  hearth.  Many  circumstances  of  a  perplexing 
nature  had  occurred  during  the  day  to  disturb  the 
serenity  of  his  meditations.  In  attempting  des  ceufs 
a  la  Princesse  he  had  unfortunately  perpetrated  an 
omelette  a  la  Reine;  the  discovery  of  a  principle  in 
ethics  had  been  frustrated  by  the  overturning  of  a 
stew;  and  last,  not  least,  he  had  been  thwarted  in 
one  of  those  admirable  bargains  which  he  at  all  times 
took  such  especial  delight  in  bringing  to  a  successful 
termination.  But  in  the  chafing  of  his  mind  at  these 
unaccountable  vicissitudes  there  did  not  fail  to  be 
mingled  some  degree  of  that  nervous  anxiety  which 
the  fury  of  a  boisterous  night  it  so  well  calculated 
to  produce.  Whistling  to  his  more  immediate  vicinity 
the  large  black  water-dog  we  have  spoken  of  before, 
and  settling  himself  uneasily  in  his  chair,  he  could 
not  help  casting  a  wary  and  unquiet  eye  toward  those 
distant  recesses  of  the  apartment  whose  inexorable 
shadows  not  even  the  red  firelight  itself  could  more 
than  partially  succeed  in  overcoming.  Having  com 
pleted  a  scrutiny  whose  exact  purpose  was  perhaps 
unintelligible  to  himself,  he  drew  close  to  his  seat  a 
small  table  covered  with  books  and  papers,  and  soon 
became  absorbed  in  the  task  of  retouching  a  vo 
luminous  manuscript  intended  for  publication  on  the 
morrow. 


EDGAR    ALLAN     POE 

He  had  been  thus  occupied  for  some  minutes,  when 
"I  am  in  no  hurry,  Monsieur  Bon-Bon,"  suddenly 
whispered  a  whining  voice  in  the  apartment. 

"The  devil!'"'  ejaculated  our  hero,  starting  to  his 
feet,  overturning  the  table  at  his  side,  and  staring 
around  him  in  astonishment. 

"Very  true,"  calmly  replied  the  voice. 

' '  Very  true !  —  what  is  very  true  ?  How  came  you 
here?"  vociferated  the  metaphysician,  as  his  eye  fell 
upon  something  which  lay  stretched  at  full  length 
upon  the  bed. 

"I  was  saying,"  said  the  intruder,  without  at 
tending  to  the  interrogatories, — "I  was  saying  that 
I  am  not  at  all  pushed  for  time,  that  the  business 
upon  which  I  took  the  liberty  of  calling  is  of  no 
pressing  importance, —  in  short,  that  I  can  very  well 
wait  until  you  have  finished  your  exposition. ' ' 

:  'My  exposition!' — •  there  now!  —  how  do  YOU 
know?  How  came  YOU  to  understand  that  I  was 
writing  an  exposition?  —  Good  God!" 

1 1  Hush ! ' '  replied  the  figure,  in  a  shrill  undertone ; 
and,  arising  quickly  from  the  bed,  he  made  a  single 
step  toward  our  hero,  while  an  iron  lamp  that  de 
pended  overhead  swung  convulsively  back  from  his 
approach. 

The  philosopher's  amazement  did  not  prevent  a 
narrow  scrutiny  of  the  stranger's  dress  and  appear 
ance.  The  outlines  of  his  figure,  exceedingly  lean, 
but  much  above  the  common  height,  were  rendered 
minutely  distinct  by  means  of  a  faded  suit  of  black 
cloth  which  fitted  tight  to  the  skin,  but  was  other- 

152 


BON-BON 

wise  cut  very  much  in  the  style  of  a  century  ago. 
These  garments  had  evidently  been  intended  for  a 
much  shorter  person  than  their  present  owner.  His  an 
kles  and  wrists  were  left  naked  for  several  inches.  In 
his  shoes,  however,  a  pair  of  very  brilliant  buckles  gave 
the  lie  to  the  extreme  poverty  implied  by  the  other 
portions  of  his  dress.  His  head  was  bare  and  entirely 
bald,  with  the  exception  of  the  hinder  part,  from 
which  depended  a  queue  of  considerable  length.  A 
pair  of  green  spectacles,  with  side  glasses,  protected 
his  eyes  from  the  influence  of  the  light,  and  at  the 
same  time  prevented  our  hero  from  ascertaining 
either  their  color  or  their  conformation.  About  the 
entire  person  there  was  no  evidence  of  a  shirt;  but 
a  white  cravat,  of  filthy  appearance,  was  tied  with 
extreme  precision  around  the  throat,  and  the  ends, 
hanging  down  formally  side  by  side,  gave  (although 
I  dare  say  unintentionally)  the  idea  of  an  ecclesiastic. 
Indeed,  many  other  points  both  in  his  appearance  and 
demeanor  might  have  very  well  sustained  a  concep 
tion  of  that  nature.  Over  his  left  ear  he  carried,  after 
the  fashion  of  a  modern  clerk,  an  instrument  resem 
bling  the  stylus  of  ancients.  In  a  breast-pocket  of  his 
coat  appeared  conspicuously  a  small  black  volume 
fastened  with  clasps  of  steel.  This  book,  whether 
accidentally  or  not,  was  so  turned  outwardly  from 
the  person  as  to  discover  the  words  "Rituel  Cath- 
olique"  in  white  letters  upon  the  back.  His  entire 
physiognomy  was  interestingly  saturnine,  even  ca 
daverously  pale.  The  forehead  was  lofty,  and  deeply 
furrowed  with  the  ridges  of  contemplation.  The 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

corners  of  the  mouth  were  drawn  down  into  an  ex 
pression  of  the  most  submissive  humility.  There  was 
also  a  clasping  of  the  hands  as  he  stepped  toward  our 
hero,  a  deep  sigh,  and  altogether  a  look  of  such  utter 
sanctity  as  could  not  have  failed  to  be  unequivocally 
prepossessing.  Every  shadow  of  anger  faded  from 
the  countenance  of  the  metaphysician,  as,  having 
completed  a  satisfactory  survey  of  his  visitor's  per 
son,  he  shook  him  cordially  by  the  hand  and  con 
ducted  him  to  a  seat. 

There  would,  however,  be  a  radical  error  in  at 
tributing  this  instantaneous  transition  of  feeling  in 
the  philosopher  to  any  one  of  those  causes  which 
might  naturally  be  supposed  to  have  had  an  in 
fluence.  Indeed,  Pierre  Bon-Bon,  from  what  I  have 
been  able  to  understand  of  his  disposition,  was  of 
all  men  the  least  likely  to  be  imposed  upon  by  any 
speciousness  of  exterior  deportment.  It  was  impos 
sible  that  so  accurate  an  observer  of  men  and  things 
should  have  failed  to  discover,  upon  the  moment, 
the  real  character  of  the  personage  who  had  thus 
intruded  upon  his  hospitality.  To  say  no  more,  the 
conformation  of  his  visitor's  feet  was  sufficiently  re 
markable  —  he  maintained  lightly  upon  his  head  an 
inordinately  tall  hat  —  there  was  a  tremulous  swell 
ing  about  the  hinder  part  of  his  breeches  —  and  the 
vibration  of  his  coat-tail  was  a  palpable  fact.  Judge 
then,  with  what  feelings  of  satisfaction  our  hero 
found  himself  thrown  thus  at  once  into  the  society 
of  a  person  for  whom  he  had  at  all  times  entertained 
the  most  unqualified  respect.  He  was,  however,  too 

154 


BON-BON 

much  of  the  diplomatist  to  let  escape  him  any  intima 
tion  of  his  suspicions  in  regard  to  the  true  state  of  af 
fairs.  It  was  not  his  cue  to  appear  at  all  conscious 
of  the  high  honor  he  thus  unexpectedly  enjoyed; 
but,  by  leading  his  guest  into  conversation,  to  elicit 
some  important  ethical  ideas,  which  might,  in  ob 
taining  a  place  in  his  contemplated  publication,  en 
lighten  the  human  race,  and  at  the  same  time  im 
mortalize  himself  —  ideas  which,  I  should  have  added, 
his  visitor's  great  age  and  well-known  proficiency 
in  the  science  of  morals  might  very  well  have  en 
abled  him  to  afford. 

Actuated  by  these  enlightened  views,  our  hero 
bade  the  gentleman  sit  down,  while  he  himself  took 
occasion  to  throw  some  fagots  upon  the  fire  and  place 
upon  the  now  re-established  table  some  bottles  of 
Mousseux.  Having  quickly  completed  these  opera 
tions,  he  drew  his  chair  vis-d-vis  to  his  companion's, 
and  waited  until  the  latter  should  open  the  conversa 
tion.  But  plans  even  the  most  skilfully  matured  are 
often  thwarted  in  the  outset  of  their  application,  and 
the  restaurateur  found  himself  nonplussed  by  the  very 
first  words  of  his  vistor's  speech. 

"I  see  you  know  me,  Bon-Bon, "  said  he;  "ha! 
ha !  ha !  —  he !  he !  he !  —  hi !  hi !  hi !  —  ho  !  ho !  ho !  — 
hu!  hu!  hu!" — and  the  Devil,  dropping  at  once  the 
sanctity  of  his  demeanor,  opened  to  its  fullest  ex 
tent  a  mouth  from  ear  to  ear,  so  as  to  display  a  set 
of  jagged  and  fang-like  teeth,  and,  throwing  back 
his  head,  laughed  long,  loudly,  wickedly,  and  up 
roariously,  while  the  black  dog,  crouching  down  upon 


155 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

his  haunches,  joined  lustily  in  the  chorus,  and  the 
tabby  cat,  flying  off  at  a  tangent,  stood  up  on  end 
and  shrieked  in  the  farthest  corner  of  the  apart 
ment. 

Not  so  the  philosopher:  he  was  too  much  a  man 
of  the  world  to  either  laugh  like  the  dog,  or  by 
shrieks  to  betray  the  indecorous  trepidation  of  the 
cat.  It  must  be  confessed  he  felt  a  little  astonish 
ment  to  see  the  white  letters  which  formed  the 
words  "Rituel  Catliolique"  on  the  book  in  his  guest's 
pocket,  momently  changing  both  their  color  and 
their  import,  and  in  a  few  seconds,  in  place  of  the 
original  title,  the  words  "Regitre  des  Condamnes" 
blaze  forth  in  characters  of  red.  This  startling  cir 
cumstance,  when  Bon-Bon  replied  to  his  visitor's  re 
mark,  imparted  to  his  manner  an  air  of  embarrass 
ment,  which  probably  might  not  otherwise  have  been 
observed. 

"Why,  sir,"  said  the  philosopher,  "why,  sir,  to 
speak  sincerely,  I  believe  you  are  —  upon  my  word  — 

the  d dest  —  that  is  to  say,  I  think  —  I  imagine  — • 

I  have  some  faint  —  some  VERY  faint  idea  —  of  the 
remarkable  honor  — 

"  Oh !  —  ah !  —  yes !  —  very  well ! ' '  interrupted 
His  Majesty;  "say  no  more;  I  see  how  it  is."  And 
hereupon,  taking  off  his  green  spectacles,  he  wiped 
the  glasses  carefully  with  the  sleeve  of  his  coat,  and 
deposited  them  in  his  pocket. 

If  Bon-Bon  had  been  astonished  at  the  incident  of 
the  book,  his  amazement  was  now  much  increased  by 
the  spectacle  which  here  presented  itself  to  view.  In 


BON-BON 

raising  his  eyes,  with  a  strong  feeling  of  curiosity  to 
ascertain  the  color  of  his  guest's,  he  found  them  by 
no  means  black,  as  he  had  anticipated,  nor  gray,  as 
might  have  been  imagined,  nor  indeed  yellow,  nor 
red,  nor  purple,  nor  white,  nor  green,  nor  any  other 
color  in  the  heavens  above,  or  in  the  earth  beneath, 
or  in  the  waters  under  the  earth.  In  short,  Pierre 
Bon-Bon  not  only  saw  plainly  that  His  Majesty  had 
no  eyes  whatsoever,  but  could  discover  no  indications 
of  their  having  existed  at  any  previous  period,  for 
the  space  where  eyes  should  naturally  have  been,  was, 
I  am  constrained  to  say,  simply  a  dead  level  of  flesh. 

It  was  not  in  the  nature  of  the  metaphysician  to 
forbear  making  some  inquiry  into  the  sources  of  so 
strange  a  phenomenon ;  and  the  reply  of  His  Majesty 
was  at  once  prompt,  dignified,  and  satisfactory. 

''Eyes!  my  dear  Bon-Bon,  eyes!  did  you  say?  — 
oh !  —  ah !  —  I  perceive !  The  ridiculous  prints,  eh, 
which  are  in  circulation  have  given  you  a  false  idea 
of  my  personal  appearance  ?  Eyes !  —  true.  Eyes, 
Pierre  Bon-Bon,  are  very  well  in  their  proper  place  — 
THAT,  you  would  say,  is  the  head?  Right  —  the 
head  of  a  worm.  To  YOU,  likewise,  these  optics  are 
indispensable,  yet  I  will  convince  you  that  my  vision 
is  more  penetrating  than  your  own.  There  is  a  cat  I 
see  in  the  corner  —  a  pretty  cat ;  look  at  her,  observe 
her  well.  Now,  Bon-Bon,  do  you  behold  the  thoughts 
—  the  thoughts,  I  say,  the  ideas,  the  reflections,  which 
are  being  engendered  in  her  pericranium?  There  it 
is,  now  —  you  do  not!  She  is  thinking  we  admire 
the  length  of  her  tail  and  the  profundity  of  her 

1*7 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

mind.  She  has  just  concluded  that  I  am  the  most 
distinguished  of  ecclesiastics,  and  that  you  are  the 
most  superficial  of  metaphysicians.  Thus  you  see  I 
am  not  altogether  blind;  but  to  one  of  my  profession 
the  eyes  you  speak  of  would  be  merely  an  incum- 
brance,  liable  at  any  time  to  be  put  out  by  a  toast 
ing-iron  or  a  pitchfork.  To  you,  I  allow,  these  optical 
affairs  are  indispensable.  Endeavor,  Bon-Bon,  to  use 
them  well;  MY  vision  is  the  soul." 

Hereupon  the  guest  helped  himself  to  the  wine 
upon  the  table,  and,  pouring  out  a  bumper  for  Bon- 
Bon,  requested  him  to  drink  it  without  scruple  and 
make  himself  perfectly  at  home. 

"A  clever  book  that  of  yours,  Pierre,"  resumed 
His  Majesty,  tapping  our  friend  knowingly  upon  the 
shoulder,  as  the  latter  put  down  his  glass  after  a 
thorough  compliance  with  his  visitor's  injunction. 
"A  clever  book  that  of  yours,  upon  my  honor.  It's 
a  work  after  my  own  heart.  Your  arrangement  of 
the  matter,  I  think,  however,  might  be  improved,  and 
many  of  your  notions  remind  me  of  Aristotle.  That 
philosopher  was  one  of  my  most  intimate  acquaint 
ances.  I  liked  him  as  much  for  his  terrible  ill-temper 
as  for  his  happy  knack  at  making  a  blunder.  There 
is  only  one  solid  truth  in  all  that  he  has  written,  and 
for  that  I  gave  him  the  hint  out  of  pure  compassion 
for  his  absurdity.  I  suppose,  Pierre  Bon-Bon,  you 
very  well  know  to  what  divine  moral  truth  I  am 
alluding?" 

"Cannot  say  that  I-   — " 

"Indeed!  why  it  was  I  who  told  Aristotle  that  by 

158 


BON-BON 

sneezing,  men  expelled  superfluous  ideas  through  the 
proboscis/7 

' '  Which  is  —  hiccup !  —  undoubtedly  the  case, ' ' 
said  the  metaphysician,  while  he  poured  out  for  him 
self  another  bumper  of  Mousseux,  and  offered  his 
snuff-box  to  the  fingers  of  his  visitor. 

" There  was  Plato,  too/7  continued  His  Majesty, 
modestly  declining  the  snuff-box  and  the  compliment 
it  implied  — ' '  there  was  Plato,  too,  for  whom  I  at  one 
time  felt  all  the  affection  of  a  friend.  You  knew 
Plato,  Bon-Bon  ?  —  ah,  no,  I  beg  a  thousand  pardons ! 
He  met  me  at  Athens  one  day  in  the  Parthenon,  and 
told  me  he  was  distressed  for  an  idea.  I  bade  him 
write  down  that  6  vou?  !<mv  abtts.  He  said  that 
he  would  do  so,  and  went  home,  while  I  stepped  over 
to  the  pyramids.  But  my  conscience  smote  me  for 
having  uttered  a  truth,  even  to  aid  a  friend,  and, 
hastening  back  to  Athens,  I  arrived  behind  the  phi 
losopher's  chair  as  he  was  inditing  the  avMs. 

''Giving  the  lambda  a  fillip  with  my  finger,  I 
turned  it  upside  down.  So  the  sentence  now  reads 
6  vou$  Iffnv  aSAd?,  and  is,  your  perceive,  the  fund 
amental  doctrine  in  his  metaphysics." 

' '  Were  you  ever  at  Rome  ? ' '  asked  the  restaurateur, 
as  he  finished  his  second  bottle  of  Mousseux  and 
drew  from  the  closet  a  large  supply  of  Chambertin. 

"But  once,  Monsieur  Bon-Bon,  but  once.  There 
was  a  time  * ' —  said  the  Devil,  as  if  reciting  some  pass 
age  from  a  book — "there  was  a  time  when  occurred 
fvn  anarchy  of  five  years,  during  which  the  republic, 
bereft  of  all  its  officers,  had  no  magistracy  besides 

159 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

the  tribunes  of  the  people,  and  these  were  not  legally 
vested  with  any  degree  of  executive  power,  at  that 
time,  Monsieur  Bon-Bon ;  at  that  time  only  I  was  in 
Rome,  and  I  have  no  earthly  acquaintance,  con 
sequently,  with  any  of  its  philosophy. ' '  * 

"What  do  you  think  of  —  what  do  you  think  of 
• —  hiccup !  —  Epicurus  ? ' ' 

"What  do  I  think  of  whom?"  said  the  Devil,  in 
astonishment;  "you  surely  do  not  mean  to  find  any 
fault  with  Epicurus !  What  do  I  think  of  Epicurus ! 
Do  you  mean  me,  sir  ?  —  /  am  Epicurus !  I  am  the 
same  philosopher  who  wrote  each  of  the  three  hun 
dred  treatises  commemorated  by  Diogenes  Laertes/' 

"That's  a  lie!"  said  the  metaphysician,  for  the 


wine  had  gotten  a  little  into  his  head. 

1  *  Very  well !  —  very  well,  sir !  —  very  well,  in 
deed,  sir!"  said  His  Majesty,  apparently  much 
flattered. 

"That's  a  lie!"  repeated  the  restaurateur,  dogmat 
ically;  "that's  a — -hiccup!  —  a  lie!" 

"Well,  well,  have  it  your  own  way!"  said  the 
Devil,  pacifically,  and  Bon-Bon,  having  beaten  His 
Majesty  at  an  argument,  thought  it  his  duty  to  con 
clude  a  second  bottle  of  Chambertin. 

"As  I  was  saying,"  resumed  the  visitor — "as  I 
was  observing  a  little  while  ago,  there  are  some  very 
outre  notions  in  that  book  of  yours,  Monsieur  Bon- 


*  Us    e'crivaient    sur    la    philosophic     [Cicero,    Lucretius, 
Seneca],  mais  c'e'tait  la  philosophie  grecque. —  CONDOBCET. 


160 


BON-BON 

Bon.  What,  for  instance,  do  you  mean  by  all  that 
humbug  about  the  soul?  Pray,  sir,  what  is  the 
soul?" 

''The  —  hiccup!  —  soul,"  replied  the  metaphysi 
cian,  referring  to  his  MS.,  "is  undoubtedly " 

"No,  sir!" 

"Indubitably " 

"No,  sir!" 

"Indisputably " 

"No,  sir!" 

"Evidently " 

"No,  sir!" 

"  Incontrovertibly " 

"No,  sir!" 

"Hiccup! " 

"No,  sir!" 

"And  beyond  all  question,  a " 

"No,  sir,  the  soul  is  no  such  thing!"  (Here  the 
philosopher,  looking  daggers,  took  occasion  to  make 
an  end,  upon  the  spot,  of  his  third  bottle  of  Chain- 
bertin.) 

' '  Then  —  hiccup !  —  pray,  sir,—  what  —  what  is 
it?" 

"That  is  neither  here  nor  there,  Monsieur  Bon- 
Bon, "  replied  His  Majesty,  musingly.  "I  have 
tasted  —  that  is  to  say,  I  have  known  some  very  bad 
souls,  and  some  too  —  pretty  good  ones."  Here  he 
smacked  his  lips,  and,  having  unconsciously  let  fall 
his  hand  upon  the  volume  in  his  pocket,  was  seized 
with  a  violent  fit  of  sneezing. 

He  continued: 

I— ii  161 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

11  There  was  the  soul  of  Cratinus  —  passable;  Aris 
tophanes  —  racy ;  Plato  —  exquisite  —  not  YOUR  Plato, 
but  Plato  the  comic  poet;  your  Plato  would  have 
turned  the  stomach  of  Cerberus  —  faugh !  Then  let 
me  see!  there  were  Nsevius,  and  Andronieus,  and 
Plautus,  and  Terentius.  Then  there  were  Lucilius, 
and  Catullus,  and  Naso,  and  Quintius  Flaccus, — 
dear  Quinty !  as  I  called  him  when  he  sung  a  seculare 
for  my  amusement,  while  I  toasted  him,  in  pure  good 
humor,  on  a  fork.  But  they  want  FLAVOR,  these 
Romans.  One  fat  Greek  is  worth  a  dozen  of  them, 
and,  besides,  will  KEEP,  which  cannot  be  said  of  a 
Quirite.  Let  us  taste  your  Sauterne." 

Bon-Bon  had  by  this  time  made  up  his  mind  to 
the  nil  admirari,  and  endeavored  to  hand  down  the 
bottles  in  question.  He  was,  however,  conscious  of 
a  strange  sound  in  the  room  like  the  wagging  of  a 
tail.  Of  this,  although  extremely  indecent  in  His 
Majesty,  the  philosopher  took  no  notice,  simply  kick 
ing  the  dog,  and  requesting  him  to  be  quiet.  The 
vistor  continued: 

1  ll  found  that  Horace  tasted  very  much  like  Aris 
totle  ;  —  you  know  I  am  fond  of  variety.  Terentius 
I  could  not  have  told  from  Menander.  Naso,  to  my 
astonishment,  was  Nicander  in  disguise.  Virgilius 
had  a  strong  twang  of  Theocritus.  Martial  put  me 
much  in  mind  of  Archiloehus,  and  Titus  Livius  was 
positively  Polybius  and  none  other." 

" Hiccup!"  here  replied  Bon-Bon,  and  His  Maj 
esty  proceeded: 

"But  if  I  have  a  penchant,  Monsieur  Bon-Bon — • 

162 


BON-BON 

if  I  HAVE  a  PENCHANT,  it  is  for  a  philosopher.  Yet, 
let  me  tell  you,  sir,  it  is  not  every  dev  —  I  mean  it 
is  not  every  gentleman  who  knows  how  to  CHOOSE 
a  philosopher.  Long  ones  are  NOT  good ;  and  the  best, 
if  not  carefully  shelled,  are  apt  to  be  a  little  rancid 
on  account  of  the  gall." 

''Shelled!" 

"I  mean  taken  out  of  the  carcass." 

' '  What  do  you  think  of  a  —  hiccup !  —  physi 
cian?" 

"DON'T  mention  them!  —  ugh!  ugh!"  (Here  His 
Majesty  retched  violently.)  "I  never  tasted  but  one 
• —  that  rascal  Hippocrates !  —  smelt  of  asaf oetida  — 
Ugh !  ugh !  ugh !  —  caught  a  wretched  cold  washing 
him  in  the  Styx,  and  after  all  he  gave  me  the  cholera 
morbus." 

' ' The  —  hiccup !  —  wretch ! ' '  ejaculated  Bon-Bon, 
"the  —  hiccup !  —  abortion  of  a  pill-box ! "-  —  and  the 
philosopher  dropped  a  tear. 

"After  all,"  continued  the  visitor,  "after  all,  if  a 
dev  —  if  a  gentleman  wishes  to  LIVE,  he  must  have 
more  talents  than  one  or  two ;  and  with  us  a  fat  face 
is  an  evidence  of  diplomacy. ' ' 

"How  so?" 

"Why  we  are  sometimes  exceedingly  pushed  for 
provisions.  You  must  know  that,  in  a  climate  so 
sultry  as  mine,  it  is  frequently  impossible  to  keep  a 
spirit  alive  for  more  than  two  or  three  hours;  and 
after  death,  unless  pickled  immediately  (and  a 
pickled  spirit  is  NOT  good),  they  will  —  smell  —  you 
understand,  eh?  Putrefaction  is  always  to  be  ap- 

163 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

prehended  when  the  souls  are  consigned  to   us  in 
the  usual  way." 

"Hiccup!  —  hiccup!  —  good  God!  how  DO  you 
manage  ?" 

Here  the  iron  lamp  commenced  swinging  with  re 
doubled  violence,  and  the  Devil  half  started  from  his 
seat;  however,  with  a  slight  sigh,  he  recovered  his 
composure,  merely  saying  to  our  hero  in  a  low  tone, 
"I  tell  you  what,  Pierre  Bon-Bon,  we  must  have  no 
more  swearing." 

The  host  swallowed  another  bumper,  by  way  of 
denoting  thorough  comprehension  and  acquiescence, 
and  the  visitor  continued : 

"  Why,  there  are  SEVERAL  ways  of  managing.  The 
most  of  us  starve:  some  put  up  with  the  pickle:  for 
my  part  I  purchase  my  spirits  vivent  corpore,  in  which 
case  I  find  they  keep  very  well." 

"But  the  body !  — hiccup !  — the  body!" 

"The  body,  the  body  —  well,  what  of  the  body?  — 
oh !  ah !  I  perceive.  Why,  sir,  the  body  is  not  AT  ALL 
affected  by  the  transaction.  I  have  made  innumer 
able  purchases  of  the  kind  in  my  day,  and  the  parties 
never  experienced  any  inconvenience.  There  were 
Cain,  and  Nimrod,  and  Nero,  and  Caligula,  and 
Dionysius,  and  Pisistratus,  and  —  and  a  thousand 
others,  who  never  knew  what  it  was  to  have  a  soul 
during  the  latter  part  of  their  lives;  yet,  sir,  these 

men  adorned  society.    Why,  is  n't  there  A ,  now, 

whom  you  know  as  well  as  I?  Is  he  not  in  possession 
of  all  his  faculties,  mental  and  corporeal?  Who 
writes  a  keener  epigram?  Who  reasons  more  wittily? 

164 


•***•«»» 


BON-BON 

Who  —  but  stay !    I  have  his  agreement  in  my  pocket- 
book.  " 

Thus  saying,  he  produced  a  red  leather  wallet  and 
took  from  it  a  number  of  papers.  Upon  some  of  these 
Bon-Bon  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  letters  "Machi- 
Maza  --  Robesp"-  -  with  the  words  "Caligula, 
George,  Elizabeth."  His  Majesty  selected  a  narrow 
slip  of  parchment,  and  from  it  read  aloud  the  follow 
ing  words : 

"In  consideration  of  certain  mental  endowments 
which  it  is  unnecessary  to  specify,  and  in  further  con 
sideration  of  one  thousand  louis  d'or,  I,  being  aged 
one  year  and  one  month,  do  hereby  make  over  to  the 
bearer  of  this  agreement  all  my  right,  title,  and 
appurtenance  in  the  shadow  called  my  soul.  (Signed) 

A "*  (Here  His  Majesty  repeated  a  name 

which  I  do  not  feel  myself  justified  in  indicating 
more  unequivocally.) 

"A  clever  fellow  that,"  resumed  he;  "but,  like 
you,  Monsieur  Bon-Bon,  he  was  mistaken  about  the 
soul.  The  soul  a  shadow,  truly !  The  soul  a  shadow ! 
Ha!  ha!  ha!— he!  he!  he!— hu!  hu!  hu!  Only 
think  of  a  fricasseed  shadow!" 

"ONLY  think— hiccup!— of  a  fricasseed  shadow!" 
exclaimed  our  hero,  whose  faculties  were  becoming 
much  illuminated  by  the  profundity  of  His  Majesty's 
discourse. 

"Only  think  of  a  —  hiccup !  —  fricasseed  shadow !  ! 
Now,  damme !  —  hiccup !  —  humph !  If  I  would  have 


Query-  Arouet  ? 

165 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

been  such  a  —  hiccup !  —  nincompoop !  MY  soul, 
Mr.—  humph!" 

"YouR  soul,  Monsieur  Bon-Bon?" 

"Yes,  sir  —  hiccup!  —  MY  soul  is " 

"What,  sir?" 

"No  shadow,  damme!" 

"Did  you  mean  to  say " 

"Yes,  sir,  MY  soul  is  —  hiccup !  —  humph !  —  yes, 
sir." 

"Did  you  not  intend  to  assert " 

"MY  soul  is  —  hiccup!  —  peculiarly  qualified  for 
—  hiccup !  —  a " 


" What,  sir?" 

"Stew." 

"Ha!" 

"Soufflee." 

"Eh!" 

"Fricassee!" 

"Indeed!" 


"Ragout  and  fricandeau  —  and  see  here,  my  good 
fellow!  I'll  let  you  have  it  —  hiccup!  —  a  bargain." 
Here  the  philosopher  slapped  His  Majesty  upon  the 
back. 

"Couldn't  think  of  such  a  thing,"  said  the  latter 
calmly,  at  the  same  time  rising  from  his  seat.  The 
metaphysician  stared. 

"Am  supplied  at  present,"  said  His  Majesty. 

"Hic-cup!  —  e-h?"  said  the  philosopher. 

"Have  no  funds  on  hand." 

"What?" 

"Besides,  very  unhandsome  in  me " 

166 


BON-BON 


"Sir!" 

"To  take  advantage  of  --  " 

"Hic-cup!" 

"Your  present  disgusting  and  ungentlemanly 
situation.  '  ' 

Here  the  visitor  bowed  and  withdrew  —  in  what 
manner  could  not  precisely  be  ascertained  —  but  in 
a  well-concerted  effort  to  discharge  a  bottle  at  "the 
villain,"  the  slender  chain  was  severed  that  depended 
from  the  ceiling,  and  the  metaphysician  prostrated 
by  the  downfall  of  the  lamp. 


LIONIZING 


all  people  went 


Upon  their  ten  toes  in  wild  wonderment. 

BISHOP  HALL — Satires. 

AM  —  that   is   to   say,   I  was  —  a   great 
man;  but  I  am  neither  the  author  of 


I 


Junius  nor  the  man  in  the  mask;  for 
my  name,   I  believe,   is   Robert  Jones, 
and  I  was  born  somewhere  in  the  city 
of  Fum-Fudge. 

The  first  action  of  my  life  was  the  taking  hold  of 
my  nose  with  both  hands.  My  mother  saw  this  and 
called  me  a  genius  —  my  father  wept  for  joy  and 
presented  me  with  a  treatise  on  Nosology.  This  I 
mastered  before  I  was  breeched. 

I  now  began  to  feel  my  way  in  the  science,  and 
soon  came  to  understand  that,  provided  a  man  had 
a  nose  sufficiently  conspicuous,  he  might,  by  merely 
following  it,  arrive  at  a  Lionship.  But  my  attention 
was  not  confined  to  theories  alone.  Every  morning  I 
gave  my  proboscis  a  couple  of  pulls  and  swallowed 
a  half  dozen  of  drams. 

When  I  came  of  age  my  father  asked  me,  one  day, 
if  I  would  step  with  him  into  his  study. 

1 68 


LIONIZING 

"My  son,"  said  he,  when  we  were  seated,  "what 
is  the  chief  end  of  your  existence  ? ' ' 

"My  father,"  I  answered,  "it  is  the  study  of  Nos 
ology." 

"And  what,  Robert,"  he  inquired,  "is  Nosology?" 

"Sir,"  I  said,  "it  is  the  science  of  Noses." 

"And  can  you  tell  me,"  he  demanded,  "what  is 
the  meaning  of  a  nose  ? ' ' 

"A  nose,  my  father,"  I  replied,  greatly  softened, 
"has  been  variously  defined  by  about  a  thousand  dif 
ferent  authors."  [Here  I  pulled  out  my  watch.] 
"It  is  now  noon,  or  thereabouts,  we  shall  have  time 
enough  to  get  through  with  them  all  before  midnight. 
To  commence  then:  The  nose,  according  to  Bartho- 
linus,  is  that  protuberance  —  that  bump  —  that  ex 
crescence  —  that " 

"Will  do,  Robert,"  interrupted  the  good  old 
gentleman.  "I  am  thunderstruck  at  the  extent  of 
your  information  —  I  am  positively  —  upon  my  soul." 
[Here  he  closed  his  eyes  and  placed  his  hand  upon 
his  heart.]  "Come  here!"  [Here  he  took  me  by 
the  arm.]  "Your  education  may  now  be  considered 
as  finished;  it  is  high  time  you  should  scuffle  for 
yourself,  and  you  cannot  do  a  better  thing  than 
merely  follow  your  nose  —  so  —  so  —  so  —  [Here 
he  kicked  me  down  stairs  and  out  of  the  door.]  — 
"so  get  out  of  my  house,  and  God  bless  you!" 

As  I  felt  within  me  the  divine  afflatus,  I  considered 
this  accident  rather  fortunate  than  otherwise.  I  re 
solved  to  be  guided  by  the  paternal  advice.  I  deter 
mined  to  follow  my  nose.  I  gave  it  a  pull  or  two 

169 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

upon  the  spot,  and  wrote  a  pamphlet  on  Nosology 
forthwith. 

All  Fum-Fudge  was  in  an  uproar. 

' '  Wonderful  genius ! ' '  said  the  Quarterly. 

11  Superb  physiologist !"  said  the  Westminster. 

"Clever  fellow!"  said  the  Foreign. 

"Fine  writer!"  said  the  Edinburgh. 

"Profound  thinker!"  said  the  Dublin. 

"Great  man!"  said  Bentley. 

"Divine  soul!"  said  Fraser. 

"One  of  us!"  said  Blackwood. 

"Who  can  he  be?"  said  Mrs.  Bas-Bleu. 

"What  can  he  be?"  said  big  Miss  Bas-Bleu. 

"Where  can  he  be?"  said  little  Miss  Bas-Bleu. 
But  I  paid  these  people  no  attention  whatever  —  I 
just  stepped  into  the  shop  of  an  artist. 

The  Duchess  of  Bless-my-Soul  was  sitting  for  her 
portrait;  the  Marquis  of  So-and-So  was  holding  the 
Duchess's  poodle;  the  Earl  of  This-and-That  was  flirt 
ing  with  her  salts ;  and  his  Royal  Highness  of  Touch- 
me-Not  was  leaning  upon  the  back  of  her  chair. 

I  approached  the  artist  and  turned  up  my  nose. 

"Oh,  beautiful!"  sighed  her  Grace. 

"Oh  my!"  lisped  the  Marquis. 

"Oh,  shocking!"  groaned  the  Earl. 

"Oh,  abominable!"  growled  his  Royal  Highness. 

"What  will  you  take  for  it?"  asked  the  artist. 

"For  his  NOSE!"  shouted  her  Grace. 

"A  thousand  pounds,"  said  I,  sitting  down. 

"A  thousand  pounds?"  inquired  the  artist,  mus 
ingly. 

170 


LIONIZING 

"A  thousand  pounds,"  said  I. 

"Beautiful!"  said  he,  entranced. 

"A  thousand  pounds,"  said  I. 

"Do  you  warrant  it?"  he  asked,  turning  the  nose 
to  the  light. 

"I  do,"  said  I,  blowing  it  well. 

"Is  it  quite  original?"  he  inquired,  touching  it 
with  reverence. 

"Humph!"  said  I,  twisting  it  to  one  side. 

"Has  no  copy  been  taken?"  he  demanded,  survey 
ing  it  through  a  microscope. 

"None,"  said  I,  turning  it  up. 

"Admirable!"  he  ejaculated,  thrown  quite  off  his 
guard  by  the  beauty  of  the  manreuvre. 

"A  thousand  pounds,"  said  I. 

"A  thousand  pounds?"  said  he. 

"Precisely,"  said  I. 

"A  thousand  pounds?"  said  he. 

"Just  so,"  said  I. 

"You  shall  have  them,"  said  he.  "What  a  piece 
of  virtti!"  So  he  drew  me  a  check  upon  the  spot, 
and  took  a  sketch  of  my  nose.  I  engaged  rooms  in 
Jermyn  Street,  and  sent  her  Majesty  the  ninety-ninth 
edition  of  the  Nosology,  with  a  portrait  of  the  pro 
boscis.  That  sad  little  rake,  the  Prince  of  Wales, 
invited  me  to  dinner. 

We  were  all  lions  and  recherches. 

There  was  a  modern  Platonist.  He  quoted  Por 
phyry,  lamblicus,  Plotinus,  Proclus,  Hierocles,  Maxi- 
mus  Tyrius,  and  Syrianus. 

There  was  a  human-perfectibility  man.    He  quoted 


171 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

Turgot,  Price,  Priestley,  Condorcet,  De  Stael,  and  the 
"Ambitious  Student  in  Ill-Health." 

There  was  Sir  Positive  Paradox.  He  observed 
that  all  fools  were  philosophers,  and  that  all  phi 
losophers  were  fools. 

There  was  ^Estheticus  Ethix.  He  spoke  of  fire, 
unity,  and  atoms ;  bi-part  and  pre-existent  soul ;  affin 
ity  and  discord;  primitive  intelligence  and  homoo- 
meria. 

There  was  Theologos  Theology.  He  talked  of 
Eusebius  and  Arianus;  heresy  and  the  Council  of 
Nice;  Puseyism  and  consubstantialism ;  Homoousion 
and  Homooiousion. 

There  was  Fricassee  from  the  Rocher  de  Cancale. 
He  mentioned  Muriton  of  red  tongue;  cauliflowers 
with  veloute  sauce ;  veal  a  la  St.  Menehoult ;  marinade 
a  la  St.  Florentin;  and  orange  jellies  en  mosaique. 

There  was  Bibulus  0 'Bumper.  He  touched  upon 
Latour  and  Marcobriinnen ;  upon  Mousseux  and 
Chambertin;  upon  Richebourg  and  St.  George;  upon 
Haubrion,  Leoville,  and  Medoc;  upon  Barac  and 
Preignac;  upon  Graves,  upon  Sauterne,  upon  Lafitte, 
and  upon  St.  Peray.  He  shook  his  head  at  Clos  de 
Vougeot,  and  told,  with  his  eyes  shut,  the  difference 
between  sherry  and  amontillado. 

There  was  Signer  Tintontintino  from  Florence. 
He  discoursed  of  Cimabue,  Arpino,  Carpaccio,  and 
Agostino  —  of  the  gloom  of  Caravaggio,  of  the 
amenity  of  Albani,  of  the  colors  of  Titian,  of  the 
frows  of  Rubens,  and  of  the  waggeries  of  Jan  Steen. 

There  was  the  President  of  the  Fum-Fudge  Univer- 

172 


LIONIZING 


sity.  He  was  of  opinion  that  the  moon  was  called 
Bendis  in  Thrace,  Bubastis  in  Egypt,  Dian  in  Rome, 
and  Artemis  in  Greece. 

There  was  a  Grand  Turk  from  Stamboul.  He 
could  not  help  thinking  that  the  angels  were  horses, 
cocks,  and  bulls;  that  somebody  in  the  sixth  heaven 
had  seventy  thousand  heads;  and  that  the  earth  was 
supported  by  a  sky-blue  cow  with  an  incalculable 
number  of  green  horns. 

There  was  Delphinus  Polyglott.  t  He  told  us  what 
had  become  of  the  eighty-three  lost  tragedies  of 
JEschylus ;  of  the  fifty-four  orations  of  Isaeus ;  of  the 
three  hundred  and  ninety-one  speeches  of  Lysias;  of 
the  hundred  and  eighty  treatises  of  Theophrastus ;  of 
the  eighth  book  of  the  conic  sections  of  Apollonius ; 
of  Pindar's  hymns  and  dithyrambics ;  and  of  the  five- 
and-forty  tragedies  of  Homer  Junior. 

There  was  Ferdinand  Fitz-Fossillus  Feltspar.  He 
informed  us  all  about  internal  fires  and  tertiary 
formations;  about  aeriforms,  fluidiforms,  and  solidi- 
forms;  about  quartz  and  marl;  about  schist  and 
schorl;  about  gypsum  and  trap;  about  talc  and  calc; 
about  blende  and  horn-blende;  about  mica-slate  and 
pudding-stone;  about  cyanite  and  lepidolite;  about 
haematite  and  tremolite;  about  antimony  and 
chalcedony;  about  manganese  and  whatever  you 
please. 

There  was  myself.  I  spoke  of  myself ;  —  of  my 
self,  of  myself,  of  myself ;  —  of  Nosology,  of  my 
pamphlet,  and  of  myself.  I  turned  up  my  nose,  and 
I  spoke  of  myself. 


173 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

" Marvelous  clever  man!"  said  the  Prince. 

' '  Superb ! ' '  said  his  guests ;  and  next  morning  her 
Grace  of  Bless-my-Soul  paid  me  a  visit. 

"Will  you  go  to  Almack's,  pretty  creature?"  she 
said,  tapping  me  under  the  chin. 

"Upon  honor,"  said  I. 

"Nose  and  all?"  she  asked. 

"As  I  live,  "I  replied. 

"Here  then  is  a  card,  my  life.  Shall  I  say  you 
will  be  there?" 

"Dear  Duchess,  with  all  my  heart." 

1 '  Pshaw,  no !  —  but  with  all  your  nose  ? ' ' 

"Every  bit  of  it,  my  love,"  said  I;  so  I  gave  it 
a  twist  or  two,  and  found  myself  at  Almack's. 

The  rooms  were  crowded  to  suffocation. 

"He  is  coming,"  said  somebody  on  the  staircase. 

"He  is  coming!"  said  somebody  farther  up. 

"He  is  coming!"  said  somebody  farther  still. 

"He  is  come!"  exclaimed  the  Duchess.  "He  is 
come,  the  little  love!"  And,  seizing  me  firmly  by 
both  hands,  she  kissed  me  thrice  upon  the  nose. 

A  marked  sensation  immediately  ensued. 

"Dfavolo!"  cried  Count  Capricornutti. 

"Dios  guarda!"  muttered  Don  Stiletto. 

"Mille  tonnerrcs!"  ejaculated  the  Prince  de  Gre- 
nouille. 

"Tausend  Teufel!"  growled  the  Elector  of  Blud- 
dennuff. 

It  was  not  to  be  borne.  I  grew  angry.  I  turned 
short  upon  Bluddennuff. 

"Sir!"  said  I  to  him,  "you  are  a  baboon." 

174 


LIONIZING 

"Sir,"  he  replied,  after  a  pause,  "Donner  und 
Blitzen!" 

This  was  all  that  could  be  desired.  We  exchanged 
cards.  At  Chalk-Farm,  the  next  morning,  I  shot  off 
his  nose  —  and  then  called  upon  my  friends. 

"Bete!"  said  the  first. 

"Fool!"  said  the  second. 

"Dolt!"  said  the  third. 

"Ass!"  said  the  fourth. 

"Ninny!"  said  the  fifth. 

"Noodle!"  said  the  sixth. 

"Be  off !"  said  the  seventh. 

At  all  this  I  felt  mortified,  and  so  called  upon  my 
father. 

"Father/1  I  asked,  "what  is  the  chief  end  of  my 
existence  ? ' ' 

"My  son,"  he  replied,  "it  is  still  the  study  of 
Nosology;  but  in  hitting  the  Elector  upon  the  nose 
you  have  overshot  your  mark.  You  have  a  fine  nose, 
it  is  true;  but  then  Bluddennuff  has  none.  You  are 
damned,  and  he  has  become  the  hero  of  the  day.  I 
grant  you  that  in  Fum-Fudge  the  greatness  of  a  lion 
is  in  proportion  to  the  size  of  his  proboscis ;  but,  good 
heavens!  there  is  no  competing  with  a  lion  who  has 
no  proboscis  at  all." 


175 


THE    DUG    DE    L'OMELETTE 

And  stepped  at  once  into  a  cooler  clime. — COWPER. 

EATS  fell  by  a  criticism.  Who  was  it 
died  of  L' Andromache  f  *  Ignoble  souls ! 
—  De  L 'Omelette  perished  of  an  ortolan. 
L'histoire  en  est  breve.  Assist  me, 
Spirit  of  Apicius! 

A  golden  cage  bore  the  little  winged  wanderer, 
enamored,  melting,  indolent,  to  the  Chaussee  d'Antin, 
from  its  home  in  far  Peru.  From  its  queenly  pos 
sessor,  La  Bellissima,  to  the  Due  De  L 'Omelette,  six 
peers  of  the  empire  conveyed  the  happy  bird. 

That  night  the  Due  was  to  sup  alone.  In  the 
privacy  of  his  bureau  he  reclined  languidly  on  that 
ottoman  for  which  he  sacrificed  his  loyalty  in  out 
bidding  his  king, —  the  notorious  ottoman  of  Cadet. 
He  buries  his  face  in  the  pillow.  The  clock 
strikes !  Unable  to  restrain  his  feelings  his  Grace 
swallows  an  olive.  At  this  moment  the  door  gently 


*  Montfleury.  The  author  of  the  Parnasse  Keforme  makes 
him  speak  in  Hades:  "L'homme  done  qui  voudrait  savoir  ce 
dont  je  suis  mort,  qu  'il  ne  demande  pas  si  ce  fut  de  fievre 
ou  de  podagre  ou  d'autre  chose  mais  qu  'il  entende  que  ce 
fut  de  L'Andromaque." 

176 


THE    DUG    DE    L'OMELETTE 

opens  to  the  sound  of  soft  music,  and  lo!  the  most 
delicate  of  birds  is  before  the  most  enamored  of  men ! 
But  what  inexpressible  dismay  now  overshadows  the 
countenance  of  the  Due? — "Horreur!  —  chien!  — 
Baptiste!  —  Voiseau!  ah,  *bon  Dieu!  cet  oiseau  modeste 
que  tu  as  deshaUUe  de  ses  plumes,  et  que  tu  as  servi 
sans  papier!"  It  is  superfluous  to  say  more:  the 
Due  expired  in  a  paroxysm  of  disgust.  *  *  * 

4 'Ha!  ha!  ha!"  said  his  Grace  on  the  third  day 
after  his  decease. 

"He!  he!  he!"  replied  the  Devil  faintly,  drawing 
himself  up  with  an  air  of  hauteur. 

"Why,  surely  you  are  not  serious,"  retorted  De 
L 'Omelette.  "I  have  sinned  —  c'est  vrai  —  but,  my 
good  sir,  consider !  —  you  have  no  actual  intention 
of  putting  such  —  such  —  barbarous  threats  into 
execution. ' ' 

"No  WHAT?"  said  his  Majesty;  "come,  sir, 
strip!" 

"Strip,  indeed!  very  pretty,  i'  faith!  no,  sir,  I 
shall  NOT  strip.  Who  are  you,  pray,  that  I,  Due  De 
L 'Omelette,  Prince  de  Foie-Gras,  just  come  of  age, 
author  of  the  Mazurkiad,  and  Member  of  the  Acad 
emy,  should  divest  myself  at  your  bidding  of  the 
sweetest  pantaloons  ever  made  by  Bourdon,  the 
daintiest  robe-de-chambre  ever  put  together  by  Rom- 
bert,  to  say  nothing  of  the  taking  my  hair  out  of 
paper,  not  to  mention  the  trouble  I  should  have  in 
drawing  off  my  gloves?" 

"Who  am  I?  — ah,  true!  I  am  Baal-Zebub, 
Prince  of  the  Fly.  I  took  thee,  just  now,  from  a  rose- 

I— 12  177 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

wood  coffin  inlaid  with  ivory.  Thou  wast  curiously 
scented  and  labelled  as  per  invoice.  Belial  sent  thee, 
my  Inspector  of  Cemeteries.  The  pantaloons,  which 
thou  sayest  were  made  by  Bourdon,  are  an  excellent 
pair  of  linen  drawers,  and  thy  robe-de-chambre  is  a 
shroud  of  no  scanty  dimensions. ' ' 

"Sir!"  replied  the  Due,  "I  am  not  to  be  insulted 
with  impunity!  Sir!  I  shall  take  the  earliest  oppor 
tunity  of  avenging  this  insult!  Sir!  you  shall  hear 
from  me!  In  the  meantime  au  revoir!" — and  the 
Due  was  bowing  himself  out  of  the  Satanic  presence 
when  he  was  interrupted  and  brought  back  by  a 
gentleman-in-waiting.  Hereupon  his  Grace  rubbed 
his  eyes,  yawned,  shrugged  his  shoulders,  reflected. 
Having  become  satisfied  of  his  identity,  he  took  a 
bird's-eye  view  of  his  whereabouts. 

The  apartment  was  superb.  Even  De  L 'Omelette 
pronounced  in  Men  comme  il  faut.  It  was  not  its 
length  nor  its  breadth,  but  its  height  —  ah,  that  was 
appalling !  There  was  no  ceiling, —  certainly  none, — 
but  a  dense,  whirling  mass  of  fiery-colored  clouds. 
His  Grace's  brain  reeled  as  he  glanced  upward. 
Prom  above  hung  a  chain  of  an  unknown  blood-red 
metal,  its  upper  end  lost,  like  the  city  of  Boston, 
parmi  les  nues.  From  its  nether  extremity  swung  a 
large  cresset.  The  Due  knew  it  to  be  a  ruby;  but 
from  it  there  poured  a  light  so  intense,  so  still,  so 
terrible,  Persia  never  worshipped  such,  Gheber  never 
imagined  such,  Mussulman  never  dreamed  of  such 
when,  drugged  with  opium,  he  has  tottered  to  a  bed 
of  poppies,  his  back  to  the  flowers,  and  his  face  to  the 


178 


THE    DUG    DE    L'OMELETTE 

god  Apollo.  The  Due  muttered  a  slight  oath,  de 
cidedly  approbatory. 

The  corners  of  the  room  were  rounded  into  niches. 
Three  of  these  were  filled  with  statues  of  gigantic 
proportions.  Their  beauty  was  Grecian,  their  de 
formity  Egyptian,  their  tout  ensemble  French.  In  the 
fourth  niche  the  statue  was  veiled;  it  was  not 
colossal.  But  then  there  was  a  taper  ankle,  a 
sandalled  foot.  De  L 'Omelette  pressed  his  hand 
upon  his  heart,  closed  his  eyes,  raised  them,  and 
caught  His  Satanic  Majesty  —  in  a  blush. 

But  the  paintings !  —  Kupris !  Astarte !  Astoreth ! 
—  a  thousand  and  the  same!  And  Rafaello  has  be 
held  them!  Yes,  Rafaello  has  been  here;  for  did  he 

not  paint  the  ?  and  was  he  not  consequently 

damned?  The  paintings!  the  paintings!  0  luxury! 
O  love!  Who,  gazing  on  those  forbidden  beauties, 
shall  have  eyes  for  the  dainty  devices  of  the  golden 
frames  that  besprinkled  like  stars  the  hyacinth  and 
the  porphyry  walls? 

But  the  Due's  heart  is  fainting  within  him.  He 
is  not,  however,  as  you  suppose,  dizzy  with  magnifi 
cence,  nor  drunk  with  the  ecstatic  breath  of  those 
innumerable  censers.  C9  est  vrai  que  de  toutes  ces 
choses  il  a  pense  beaucoup —  mais!  The  Due  De 
L 'Omelette  is  terror-stricken;  for,  through  the  lurid 
vista  which  a  single  uncurtained  window  is  afford 
ing,  lo!  gleams  the  most  ghastly  of  all  fires! 

Le  peuvre  Due!  He  could  not  help  imagining  that 
the  glorious,  the  voluptuous,  the  never-dying  melo 
dies  which  pervaded  that  hall,  as  they  passed, 

179 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

filtered  and  transmuted,  through  the  alchemy  of  the 
enchanted  window-panes,  were  the  wailings  and  the 
howlings  of  the  hopeless  and  the  damned!  And 
there,  too !  —  there !  —  upon  the  ottoman !  —  who 
could  he  be  ?  —  he,  the  petit-maUre  —  no,  the  Deity  — 
who  sat  as  if  carved  in  marble,  et  qui  sourit,  with 
his  pale  countenance,  si  amerementf 

Mais  il  faut  agir  —  that  is  to  say,  a  Frenchman 
never  faints  outright.  Besides,  his  Grace  hated  a 
scene  —  De  L 'Omelette  is  himself  again.  There  were 
some  foils  upon  a  table,  some  points  also.  The  Due 

had  studied  under  B ;  il  avait  tue  ses  six  hommes. 

Now,  then,  il  pent  s'echapper.  He  measures  two 
points,  and,  with  a  grace  inimitable,  offers  his  Maj 
esty  the  choice.  Horreur!  his  Majesty  does  not 
fence ! 

Mais  il  joue!  —  how  happy  a  thought!  —  but  his 
Grace  had  always  an  excellent  memory.  He  had 
dipped  in  the  Diable  of  the  Abbe  Gualtier.  Therein 
it  is  said  "que  le  Diable  n'ose  pas  refuser  un  jeu 
d'ecarte." 

But  the  chances  —  the  chances!  True  —  desper 
ate;  but  scarcely  more  desperate  than  the  Due.  Be 
sides,  was  he  not  in  the  secret?  had  he  not  skimmed 
over  Pierre  Le  Brunf  was  he  not  a  member  of  the 
Club  Vingt-un?  "Si  je  perds"  said  he,  "je  serai 
deux  fois  perdu  —  I  shall  be  doubly  damned  —  voild 
tout!  (Here  his  Grace  shrugged  his  shoulders.) 
Si  je  gagne,  je  reviendrai  a  mes  ortolans  —  que  les 
cartes  soient  preparees!" 

His  Grace  was  all  care,  all  attention  —  his  Maj- 

180 


THE    DUG    DE    L'OMELETTE 

esty,  all  confidence.  A  spectator  would  have  thought 
of  Francis  and  Charles.  His  Grace  thought  of  his 
game.  His  Majesty  did  not  think;  he  shuffled.  The 
Due  cut. 

The  cards  are  dealt.  The  trump  is  turned  —  it 
is  —  it  is  —  the  king !  No !  —  it  was  the  queen.  His 
Majesty  cursed  her  masculine  habiliments.  De 
L 'Omelette  placed  his  hand  upon  his  heart. 

They  play.  The  Due  counts.  The  hand  is  out. 
His  Majesty  counts  heavily,  smiles,  and  is  taking 
wine.  The  Due  slips  a  card. 

"C'est  a  vous  a  faire,"  said  his  Majesty,  cutting. 
His  Grace  bowed,  dealt,  and  arose  from  the  table  en 
presentant  le  Roi. 

His  Majesty  looked  chagrined. 

Had  Alexander  not  been  Alexander,  he  would 
have  been  Diogenes;  and  the  Due  assured  his  antag 
onist  in  taking  leave,  llqm  s1  il  ny  eut  ete  De  L'Ome- 
lette  il  n'  aurait  point  d'  objection  d'  etre  le  DiaUe." 


182 


SHADOW:  A  PARABLE 

Yea!  though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow. 

Psalm  of  David. 


B  WHO  read  are  still  among  the  living; 
^y  but  I  who  write  shall  have  long  since 

gone  my  way  into  the  region  of  shad 
ows.     For  indeed  strange  things  shall 
happen,   and   secret  things  be  known, 
and  many  centuries  shall  pass  away  ere  these  me 
morials  be  seen  of  men.    And,  when  seen,  there  will 
be  some  to  disbelieve,  and  some  to  doubt,  and  yet 
a  few  who  will  find  much  to  ponder  upon  in  the 
characters  here  graven  with  a  stylus  of  iron. 

The  year  had  been  a  year  of  terror,  and  of  feel 
ings  more  intense  than  terror,  for  which  there  is  no 
name  upon  the  earth.  For  many  prodigies  and  signs 
had  taken  place,  and  far  and  wide,  over  sea  and  land, 
the  black  wings  of  the  pestilence  were  spread  abroad. 
To  those,  nevertheless,  cunning  in  the  stars,  it  was 
not  unknown  that  the  heavens  wore  an  aspect  of  ill ; 
and  to  me,  the  Greek  Oinos,  among  others,  it  was 
evident  that  now  had  arrived  the  alternation  of  that 
seven  hundred  and  ninety-fourth  year  when,  at  the 
entrance  of  Aries,  the  planet  Jupiter  is  conjoined 
with  the  red  ring  of  the  terrible  Baturnus.  The 


182 


SHADOW:   A    PARABLE 

peculiar  spirit  of  the  skies,  if  I  mistake  not  greatly, 
made  itself  manifest,  not  only  in  the  physical  orb 
of  the  earth,  but  in  the  souls,  imaginations,  and 
meditations  of  mankind. 

Over  some  flasks  of  the  red  Chian  wine,  within 
the  walls  of  a  noble  hall,  in  a  dim  city  called 
Ptolemais,  we  sat,  at  night,  a  company  of  seven. 
And  to  our  chamber  there  was  no  entrance  save  by  a 
lofty  door  of  brass:  and  the  door  was  fashioned  by 
the  artisan  Corinnos,  and  being  of  rare  workmanship, 
was  fastened  from  within.  Black  draperies,  likewise, 
in  the  gloomy  room,  shut  out  from  our  view  the 
moon,  the  lurid  stars,  and  the  peopleless  streets;  but 
the  boding  and  the  memory  of  Evil,  they  would  not 
be  so  excluded.  There  were  things  around  us  and 
about  of  which  I  can  render  no  distinct  account  — 
things  material  and  spiritual:  heaviness  in  the  at 
mosphere,  a  sense  of  suffocation,  anxiety,  and,  above 
all,  that  terrible  state  of  existence  which  the  nervous 
experience  when  the  senses  are  keenly  living  and 
awake,  and  meanwhile  the  powers  of  thought  lie 
dormant.  A  dead  weight  hung  upon  us.  It  hung 
upon  our  limbs,  upon  the  household  furniture,  upon 
the  goblets  from  which  we  drank,  and  all  things 
were  depressed  and  borne  down  thereby  —  all  things 
save  only  the  flames  of  the  seven  iron  lamps  which 
illumined  our  revel.  Uprearing  themselves  in  tall, 
slender  lines  of  light,  they  thus  remained  burning 
all  pallid  and  motionless;  and  in  the  mirror  which 
their  luster  formed  upon  the  round  table  of  ebony 
at  which  we  sat,  each  of  us  there  assembled  beheld 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

the  pallor  of  his  own  countenance,  and  the  unquiet 
glare  in  the  downcast  eyes  of  his  companions.  Yet 
we  laughed  and  were  merry  in  our  proper  way,  which 
was  hysterical;  and  sang  the  songs  of  Anacreon, 
which  are  madness;  and  drank  deeply,  although  the 
purple  wine  reminded  us  of  blood.  For  there  was 
yet  another  tenant  of  our  chamber  in  the  person  of 
young  Zoilus.  Dead,  and  at  full  length  he  lay, 
enshrouded;  the  genius  and  the  demon  of  the  scene. 
Alas!  he  bore  no  portion  in  our  mirth,  save  that  his 
countenance,  distorted  with  the  plague,  and  his  eyes, 
in  which  death  had  but  half  extinguished  the  fire 
of  the  pestilence,  seemed  to  take  such  interest  in  our 
merriment  as  the  dead  may  haply  take  in  the  merri 
ment  of  those  who  are  to  die.  But  although  I,  Oinos, 
felt  that  the  eyes  of  the  departed  were  upon  me,  still 
I  forced  myself  not  to  perceive  the  bitterness  of  their 
expression,  and,  gazing  down  steadily  into  the  depths 
of  the  ebony  mirror,  sang  with  a  loud  and  sonorous 
voice  the  songs  of  the  son  of  Teios.  But  gradually 
my  songs  they  ceased,  and  their  echoes,  rolling  afar 
off  among  the  sable  draperies  of  the  chamber,  be 
came  weak  and  undistinguishable,  and  so  faded  away. 
And  lo !  from  among  those  sable  draperies  where 
the  sounds  of  the  song  departed,  there  came  forth 
a  dark  and  undefined  shadow  —  a  shadow  such  as 
the  moon,  when  low  in  heaven,  might  fashion  from 
the  figure  of  a  man:  but  it  was  the  shadow  neither 
of  man  nor  of  God,  nor  of  any  familiar  thing.  And, 
quivering,  awhile  among  the  draperies  of  the  room, 
it  at  length  rested  in  full  view  upon  the  surface  of 

184 


SHADOW:   A    PARABLE 

the  door  of  brass.  But  the  shadow  was  vague,  and 
formless,  and  indefinite,  and  was  the  shadow  neither 
of  man  nor  God  —  neither  god  of  Greece,  nor  god 
of  Chaldaea,  nor  any  Egyptian  god.  And  the  shadow 
rested  upon  the  brazen  doorway  and  under  the  arch 
of  the  entablature  of  the  door,  and  moved  not,  nor 
spoke  any  word,  but  there  became  stationary  and  re 
mained.  And  the  door  whereupon  the  shadow  rested 
was,  if  I  remember  aright,  over  against  the  feet  of 
the  young  Zoilus  enshrouded.  But  we,  the  seven 
there  assembled,  having  seen  the  shadow  as  it  came 
out  from  among  the  draperies,  dared  not  steadily  be 
hold  it,  but  cast  down  our  eyes  and  gazed  continually 
into  the  depths  of  the  mirror  of  ebony.  And  at 
length  I,  Oinos,  speaking  some  low  words,  demanded 
of  the  shadow  its  dwelling  and  its  appellation.  And 
the  shadow  answered,  "I  am  SHADOW,  and  my 
dwelling  is  near  to  the  Catacombs  of  Ptolemais,  and 
hard  by  those  dim  plains  of  Helusion  which  border 
upon  the  foul  Charonian  canal."  And  then  did  we, 
the  seven,  start  from  our  seats  in  horror  and  stand 
trembling,  and  shuddering,  and  aghast,  for  the  tones 
in  the  voice  of  the  shadow  were  not  the  tones  of  any 
one  being,  but  of  a  multitude  of  beings,  and,  varying 
in  their  cadences  from  syllable  to  syllable,  fell  duskily 
upon  our  ears  in  the  well-remembered  and  familiar 
accents  of  many  thousand  departed  friends. 


.85 


LOSS  OF  BREATH 

A  TALE    NEITHER   IN  NOR   OUT    OF  "BLACK. 
WOOD" 


O  breathe  not,  etc. 


MOORE'S  Melodies. 


.        •       HE  most  notorious  ill-fortune  must,  in  the 

end,  yield  to  the  untiring  courage  of 

philosophy  —  as  the  most  stubborn  city 

to  the  ceaseless  vigilance  of  an  enemy. 

Salmanezer,  as  we  have  it  in  the  holy 

writings,  lay  three  years  before  Samaria;  yet  it  fell. 

Sardanapalus     (see    Diodorus)     maintained    himself 

seven  in  Nineveh;  but  to  no  purpose.     Troy  expired 

at  the  close  of  the  second  lustrum;   and  Azoth,  as 

Aristaeus   declares  upon  his  honor  as   a   gentleman, 

opened  at  last  her  gates  to  Psammiticus,  after  having 

barred  them  for  the  fifth  part  of  a  century.     .     .     . 

"Thou  wretch!  thou  vixen!  thou  shrew!"  said  I 

to  my  wife  on  the  morning  after  our  wedding,  "thou 

witch!  thou  hag!  thou  whipper-snapper!  thou  sink 

of  iniquity !  thou  fiery-faced  quintessence  of  all  that 

is     abominable !  —  thou  —  thou  — "     here     standing 

upon  tiptoe,  seizing  her  by  the  throat,  and  placing 

my  mouth  close  to  her  ear,  I  was  preparing  to  launch 


ValL    I 


1 86 


LOSS    OF    BREATH 


forth  a  new  and  more  decided  epithet  of  opprobrium, 
which  should  not  fail,  if  ejaculated,  to  convince  her 
of  her  insignificance,  when,  to  my  extreme  horror  and 
astonishment,  I  discovered  that  I  HAD  LOST  MY 

BREATH. 

The  phrases,  "I  am  out  of  breath,"  "I  have  lost 
my  breath,"  etc.,  are  often  enough  repeated  in  com 
mon  conversation;  but  it  had  never  occurred  to  me 
that  the  terrible  accident  of  which  I  speak  could 
bona  fide  and  actually  happen!  Imagine  —  that  is, 
if  you  have  a  fanciful  turn  —  imagine,  I  say,  my 
wonder,  my  consternation,  my  despair! 

There  is  a  good  genius,  however,  which  has  never 
entirely  deserted  me.  In  my  most  ungovernable 
moods  I  still  retain  a  sense  of  propriety,  "et  le  chemin 
des  passions  me  conduit,"  as  Lord  Edouard  in  the 
Julie  says  it  did  him  lld  la  philosophic  veritable." 

Although  I  could  not  at  first  precisely  ascertain 
to  what  degree  the  occurrence  had  affected  me,  I  de 
termined  at  all  events  to  conceal  the  matter  from  my 
wife  until  further  experience  should  discover  to  me 
the  extent  of  this  my  unheard-of  calamity.  Altering 
my  countenance,  therefore,  in  a  moment,  from  its 
bepuffed  and  distorted  appearance  to  an  expression 
of  arch  and  coquettish  benignity,  I  gave  my  lady  a 
pat  on  the  one  cheek  and  a  kiss  on  the  other,  and 
without  saying  one  syllable  (Furies!  I  could  not,) 
left  her  astonished  at  my  drollery  as  I  pirouetted  out 
of  the  room  in  a  pas  de  zephyr. 

Behold  me,  then,  safely  ensconced  in  my  private 
boudoir,  a  fearful  instance  of  the  ill  consequences 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

attending  upon  irascibility;  alive,  with  the  qualifi 
cations  of  the  dead;  dead,  with  the  propensities  of 
the  living;  an  anomaly  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  be 
ing  very  calm,  yet  breathless. 

Yes!  breathless.  I  am  serious  in  asserting  that 
my  breath  was  entirely  gone.  I  could  not  have 
stirred  with  it  a  feather  if  my  life  had  been  at  issue, 
or  sullied  even  the  delicacy  of  a  mirror.  Hard  fate! 
yet  there  was  some  alleviation  to  the  first  over 
whelming  paroxysm  of  my  sorrow.  I  found  upon 
trial  that  the  powers  of  utterance  which,  upon  my 
inability  to  proceed  in  the  conversation  with  my  wife, 
I  then  concluded  to  be  totally  destroyed,  were  in 
fact  only  partially  impeded,  and  I  discovered  that 
had  I,  at  that  interesting  crisis,  dropped  my  voice  to 
a  singularly  deep  guttural,  I  might  still  have  con 
tinued  to  her  the  communication  of  my  sentiments ; 
this  pitch  of  voice  (the  guttural)  depending,  I  find, 
not  upon  the  current  of  the  breath,  but  upon  a  cer 
tain  spasmodic  action  of  the  muscles  of  the  throat. 

Throwing  myself  upon  a  chair  I  remained  for 
some  time  absorbed  in  meditation.  My  reflections, 
be  sure,  were  of  no  consolatory  kind.  A  thousand 
vague  and  lachrymatory  fancies  took  possession  of 
my  soul,  and  even  the  idea  of  suicide  flitted  across 
my  brain ;  but  it  is  a  trait  in  the  perversity  of  human 
nature  to  reject  the  obvious  and  the  ready  for  the 
far-distant  and  equivocal.  Thus  I  shuddered  at  self- 
murder  as  the  most  decided  of  atrocities,  while  the 
tabby-cat  purred  strenuously  upon  the  rug  and  the 
very  water-dog  wheezed  assiduously  under  the  table, 


1 88 


LOSS     OF    BREATH 

each  taking  to  itself  much  merit  for  the  strength  of 
its  lungs,  and  all  obviously  done  in  derision  of  my 
own  pulmonary  incapacity. 

Oppressed  with  a  tumult  of  vague  hopes  and  fears 
I  at  length  heard  the  footsteps  of  my  wife  descend 
ing  the  staircase.  Being  now  assured  of  her  absence 
I  returned  with  a  palpitating  heart  to  the  scene  of 
my  disaster. 

Carefully  locking  the  door  on  the  inside  I  com 
menced  a  vigorous  search.  It  was  possible,  I  thought, 
that  concealed  in  some  obscure  corner  or  lurking  in 
some  closet  or  drawer  might  be  found  the  lost  object 
of  my  inquiry.  It  might  have  a  vapory  —  it  might 
even  have  a  tangible  form.  Most  philosophers,  upon 
many  points  of  philosophy,  are  still  very  unphil- 
osophical.  William  Godwin,  however,  says  in  his 
Mandeville  that  "invisible  things  are  the  only  real 
ities,"  and  this,  all  will  allow,  is  a  case  in  point.  I 
would  have  the  judicious  reader  pause  before  accus 
ing  such  asseverations  of  an  undue  quantum  of 
absurdity.  Anaxagoras,  it  will  be  remembered, 
maintained  that  snow  is  black,  and  this  I  have  since 
found  to  be  the  case. 

Long  and  earnestly  did  I  continue  the  investiga 
tion:  but  the  contemptible  reward  of  my  industry 
and  perseverance  proved  to  be  only  a  set  of  false 
teeth,  two  pairs  of  hips,  an  eye,  and  a  number  of 
billets-doux  from  Mr.  Windenough  to  my  wife.  I 
might  as  well  here  observe  that  this  confirmation  of 
my  lady's  partiality  for  Mr.  W.  occasioned  me  little 
uneasiness.  That  Mrs.  Lackobreath  should  admire 

.89 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

anything  so  dissimilar  to  myself  was  a  natural  and 
necessary  evil.  I  am,  it  is  well  known,  of  a  robust 
and  corpulent  appearance,  and  at  the  same  time  some 
what  diminutive  in  stature.  What  wonder,  then, 
that  the  lath-like  tenuity  of  my  acquaintance  and 
his  altitude,  which  has  grown  into  a  proverb,  should 
have  met  with  all  due  estimation  in  the  eyes  of  Mrs. 
Lackobreath.  But  to  return. 

My  exertions,  as  I  have  before  said,  proved  fruit 
less.  Closet  after  closet,  drawer  after  drawer,  corner 
after  corner,  were  scrutinized  to  no  purpose.  At  one 
time,  however,  I  thought  myself  sure  of  my  prize, 
having,  in  rummaging  a  dressing-case,  accidentally 
demolished  a  bottle  of  Grandjean's  oil  of  archangels, 
which,  as  an  agreeable  perfume,  I  here  take  the 
liberty  of  recommending. 

With  a  heavy  heart  I  returned  to  my  boudoir, 
there  to  ponder  upon  some  method  of  eluding  my 
wife's  penetration  until  I  could  make  arrangements 
prior  to  my  leaving  the  country,  for  to  this  I  had 
already  made  up  my  mind.  In  a  foreign  climate,  be 
ing  unknown,  I  might,  with  some  probability  of  suc 
cess,  endeavor  to  conceal  my  unhappy  calamity, —  a 
calamity  calculated,  even  more  than  beggary,  to 
estrange  the  affections  of  the  multitude  and  to  draw 
down  upon  the  wretch  the  well-merited  indignation 
of  the  virtuous  and  the  happy.  I  was  not  long  in 
hesitation.  Being  naturally  quick,  I  committed  to 
memory  the  entire  tragedy  of  Metamora.  I  had  the 
good  fortune  to  recollect  that  in  the  accentuation  of 
this  drama,  or  at  least  such  portion  of  it  as  is  allotted 


190 


LOSS    OF    BREATH 

to  the  hero,  the  tones  of  voice  in  which  I  found  my 
self  deficient  were  altogether  unnecessary,  and  that 
the  deep  guttural  was  expected  to  reign  monoto 
nously  throughout. 

I  practised  for  some  time  by  the  borders  of  a 
well-frequented  marsh;  herein,  however,  having  no 
reference  to  a  similar  proceeding  of  Demosthenes, 
but  from  a  design  peculiarly  and  conscientiously 
my  own.  Thus  armed  at  all  points  I  determined  to 
make  my  wife  believe  that  I  was  suddenly  smitten 
with  a  passion  for  the  stage.  In  this  I  succeeded  to 
a  miracle ;  and  to  every  question  or  suggestion  found 
myself  at  liberty  to  reply  in  my  most  frog-like  and 
sepulchral  tones  with  some  passage  from  the  tragedy, 
any  portion  of  which,  as  I  soon  took  great  pleasure 
in  observing,  would  apply  equally  well  to  any  par 
ticular  subject.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed,  however, 
that  in  the  delivery  of  such  passages  I  was  found 
at  all  deficient  in  the  looking  asquint,  the  showing 
my  teeth,  the  working  my  knees,  the  shuffling  my 
feet,  or  in  any  of  those  unmentionable  graces  which 
are  now  justly  considered  the  characteristics  of  a  pop 
ular  performer.  To  be  sure,  they  spoke  of  confin 
ing  me  in  a  strait- jacket;  but,  good  God!  they  never 
suspected  me  of  having  lost  my  breath. 

Having  at  length  put  my  affairs  in  order,  I  took 
my  seat  very  early  one  morning  in  the  mail  stage 
for  ,  giving  it  to  be  understood  among  my  ac 
quaintances  that  business  of  the  last  importance  re 
quired  my  immediate  personal  attendance  in  that 
city. 

191 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

and  plunging  with  all  my  might  and  making  the 
most  furious  contortions,  for  the  operations  of  the 
surgeon  had,  in  a  measure,  restored  me  to  the  posses 
sion  of  my  faculties.  All,  however,  was  attributed 
to  the  effects  of  a  new  galvanic  battery,  wherewith 
the  apothecary,  who  is  really  a  man  of  information, 
performed  several  curious  experiments,  in  which, 
from  my  personal  share  in  their  fulfilment,  I  could 
not  help  feeling  deeply  interested.  It  was  a  source 
of  mortification  to  me,  nevertheless,  that,  although 
I  made  several  attempts  at  conversation,  my  powers 
of  speech  were  so  entirely  in  abeyance  that  I  could 
not  even  open  my  mouth;  much  less,  then,  make 
reply  to  some  ingenious  but  fanciful  theories,  of 
which,  under  other  circumstances,  my  minute  ac 
quaintance  with  the  Hippocratian  pathology  would 
have  afforded  me  a  ready  confutation. 

Not  being  able  to  arrive  at  a  conclusion,  the  prac 
titioners  remanded  me  for  further  examination.  I 
was  taken  up  into  a  garret;  and,  the  surgeon's  lady 
having  accommodated  me  with  drawers  and  stock 
ings,  the  surgeon  himself  fastened  my  hands  and  tied 
up  my  jaws  with  a  pocket-handkerchief  —  then 
bolted  the  door  on  the  outside  as  he  hurried  to  his 
dinner,  leaving  me  alone  to  silence  and  to  meditation. 

I  now  discovered  to  my  extreme  delight  that  I 
could  have  spoken  had  not  my  mouth  been  tied  up 
with  the  pocket-handkerchief.  Consoling  myself  with 
this  reflection  I  was  mentally  repeating  some  pass 
ages  of  the  Omnipresence  of  the  Deity,  as  is  my  cus 
tom  before  resigning  myself  to  sleep,  when  two  cats, 


194 


LOSS    OF    BREATH 

of  a  greedy  and  vituperative  turn,  entering  at  a  hole 
in  the  wall,  leaped  up  with  a  flourish  a  la  Catalani, 
and,  alighting  opposite  one  another  on  my  visage, 
betook  themselves  to  indecorous  contention  for  the 
paltry  consideration  of  my  nose. 

But,  as  the  loss  of  his  ears  proved  the  means  of 
elevating  to  the  throne  of  Cyrus,  the  Magian,  or 
Mige-Gush  of  Persia,  and  as  the  cutting  off  of  his 
nose  gave  Zopyrus  possession  of  Babylon,  so  the  loss 
of  a  few  ounces  of  my  countenance  proved  the  salva 
tion  of  my  body.  Aroused  by  the  pain,  and  burning 
with  indignation,  I  burst,  at  a  single  effort,  the  fast 
enings  and  the  bandage.  Stalking  across  the  room 
I  cast  a  glance  of  contempt  at  the  belligerents,  and 
throwing  open  the  sash,  to  their  extreme  horror  and 
disappointment,  precipitated  myself  very  dexterously 
from  the  window. 

The  mail-robber  W ,  to  whom  I  bore  a  singu 
lar  resemblance,  was  at  this  moment  passing  from 
the  city  jail  to  the  scaffold  erected  for  his  execution 
in  the  suburbs.  His  extreme  infirmity  and  long-con 
tinued  ill-health,  had  obtained  him  the  privilege  of 
remaining  unmanacled;  and,  habited  in  his  gallows 
costume, —  one  very  similar  to  my  own  —  he  lay  at 
full  length  in  the  bottom  of  the  hangman's  cart 
(which  happened  to  be  under  the  windows  of  the 
surgeon  at  the  moment  of  my  precipitation)  without 
any  other  guard  than  the  driver,  who  was  asleep,  and 
two  recruits  of  the  sixth  infantry,  who  were  drunk. 

As  ill-luck  would  have  it,  I  alit  upon  my  feet 
within  the  vehicle.  W ,  who  was  an  acute  fellow, 


195 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

and  plunging  with  all  my  might  and  making  the 
most  furious  contortions,  for  the  operations  of  the 
surgeon  had,  in  a  measure,  restored  me  to  the  posses 
sion  of  my  faculties.  All,  however,  was  attributed 
to  the  effects  of  a  new  galvanic  battery,  wherewith 
the  apothecary,  who  is  really  a  man  of  information, 
performed  several  curious  experiments,  in  which, 
from  my  personal  share  in  their  fulfilment,  I  could 
not  help  feeling  deeply  interested.  It  was  a  source 
of  mortification  to  me,  nevertheless,  that,  although 
I  made  several  attempts  at  conversation,  my  powers 
of  speech  were  so  entirely  in  abeyance  that  I  could 
not  even  open  my  mouth;  much  less,  then,  make 
reply  to  some  ingenious  but  fanciful  theories,  of 
which,  under  other  circumstances,  my  minute  ac 
quaintance  with  the  Hippocratian  pathology  would 
have  afforded  me  a  ready  confutation. 

Not  being  able  to  arrive  at  a  conclusion,  the  prac 
titioners  remanded  me  for  further  examination.  I 
was  taken  up  into  a  garret;  and,  the  surgeon's  lady 
having  accommodated  me  with  drawers  and  stock 
ings,  the  surgeon  himself  fastened  my  hands  and  tied 
up  my  jaws  with  a  pocket-handkerchief  —  then 
bolted  the  door  on  the  outside  as  he  hurried  to  his 
dinner,  leaving  me  alone  to  silence  and  to  meditation. 

I  now  discovered  to  my  extreme  delight  that  I 
could  have  spoken  had  not  my  mouth  been  tied  up 
with  the  pocket-handkerchief.  Consoling  myself  with 
this  reflection  I  was  mentally  repeating  some  pass 
ages  of  the  Omnipresence  of  the  Deity,  as  is  my  cus 
tom  before  resigning  myself  to  sleep,  when  two  cats, 


194 


LOSS    OF    BREATH 

of  a  greedy  and  vituperative  turn,  entering  at  a  hole 
in  the  wall,  leaped  up  with  a  flourish  a  la  Catalani, 
and,  alighting  opposite  one  another  on  my  visage, 
betook  themselves  to  indecorous  contention  for  the 
paltry  consideration  of  my  nose. 

But,  as  the  loss  of  his  ears  proved  the  means  of 
elevating  to  the  throne  of  Cyrus,  the  Magian,  or 
Mige-Gush  of  Persia,  and  as  the  cutting  off  of  his 
nose  gave  Zopyrus  possession  of  Babylon,  so  the  loss 
of  a  few  ounces  of  my  countenance  proved  the  salva 
tion  of  my  body.  Aroused  by  the  pain,  and  burning 
with  indignation,  I  burst,  at  a  single  effort,  the  fast 
enings  and  the  bandage.  Stalking  across  the  room 
I  cast  a  glance  of  contempt  at  the  belligerents,  and 
throwing  open  the  sash,  to  their  extreme  horror  and 
disappointment,  precipitated  myself  very  dexterously 
from  the  window. 

The  mail-robber  W ,  to  whom  I  bore  a  singu 
lar  resemblance,  was  at  this  moment  passing  from 
the  city  jail  to  the  scaffold  erected  for  his  execution 
in  the  suburbs.  His  extreme  infirmity  and  long-con 
tinued  ill-health,  had  obtained  him  the  privilege  of 
remaining  unmanacled;  and,  habited  in  his  gallows 
costume, —  one  very  similar  to  my  own  —  he  lay  at 
full  length  in  the  bottom  of  the  hangman's  cart 
(which  happened  to  be  under  the  windows  of  the 
surgeon  at  the  moment  of  my  precipitation)  without 
any  other  guard  than  the  driver,  who  was  asleep,  and 
two  recruits  of  the  sixth  infantry,  who  were  drunk. 

As  ill-luck  would  have  it,  I  alit  upon  my  feet 
within  the  vehicle.  W ,  who  was  an  acute  fellow, 

195 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

perceived  his  opportunity.  Leaping  up  immediately, 
he  bolted  out  behind,  and  turning  down  an  alley  was 
out  of  sight  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  The  recruits, 
aroused  by  the  bustle,  could  not  exactly  comprehend 
the  merits  of  the  transaction.  Seeing,  however,  a 
man,  the  precise  counterpart  of  the  felon,  standing 
upright  in  the  cart  before  their  eyes,  they  were  of 

the  opinion  that  the  rascal  (meaning  W )  was 

after  making  his  escape  (so  they  expressed  them 
selves),  and,  having  communicated  this  opinion  to 
one  another,  they  took  each  a  dram  and  then  knocked 
me  down  with  the  butt-ends  of  their  muskets. 

It  was  not  long  ere  we  arrived  at  the  place  of 
destination.  Of  course  nothing  could  be  said  in  my 
defence.  Hanging  was  my  inevitable  fate.  I  re 
signed  myself  thereto  with  a  feeling  half  stupid,  half 
acrimonious.  Being  little  of  a  cynic,  I  had  all  the 
sentiments  of  a  dog.  The  hangman,  however,  ad 
justed  the  noose  about  my  neck.  The  drop  fell. 

I  forbear  to  depict  my  sensations  upon  the  gal 
lows;  although  here,  undoubtedly,  I  could  speak  to 
the  point,  and  it  is  a  topic  upon  which  nothing  has 
been  well  said.  In  fact,  to  write  upon  such  a  theme 
it  is  necessary  to  have  been  hanged.  Every  author 
should  confine  himself  to  matters  of  experience.  Thus 
Mark  Antony  composed  a  treatise  upon  getting 
drunk. 

I  may  just  mention,  however,  that  die  I  did  not. 
My  body  WAS,  but  I  had  no  breath  TO  BE,  suspended ; 
and  but  for  the  knot  under  my  left  ear  (which  had 
the  feel  of  a  military  stock)  I  daresay  that  I  should 

I96 


LOSS    OF    BREATH 

have  experienced  very  little  inconvenience.  As  for 
the  jerk  given  to  my  neck  upon  the  falling  of  the 
drop,  it  merely  proved  a  corrective  to  the  twist 
afforded  me  by  the  fat  gentleman  in  the  coach. 

For  good  reasons,  however,  I  did  my  best  to  give 
the  crowd  the  worth  of  their  trouble.  My  con 
vulsions  were  said  to  be  extraordinary.  My  spasms 
it  would  have  been  difficult  to  beat.  The  populace 
encored.  Several  gentlemen  swooned;  and  a  multi 
tude  of  ladies  were  carried  home  in  hysterics.  Pinxit 
availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  to  retouch,  from 
a  sketch  taken  upon  the  spot,  his  admirable  paint 
ing  of  the  Marsyas  Flayed  Alive. 

When  I  had  afforded  sufficient  amusement,  it  was 
thought  proper  to  remove  my  body  from  the  gallows ; 
this  the  more  especially  as  the  real  culprit  had  in 
the  meantime  been  retaken  and  recognized,  a  fact 
which  I  was  so  unlucky  as  not  to  know. 

Much  sympathy  was,  of  course,  exercised  in  my 
behalf,  and  as  no  one  made  claim  to  my  corpse  it  was 
ordered  that  I  should  be  interred  in  a  public  vault. 

Here,  after  due  interval,  I  was  deposited.  The 
sexton  departed,  and  I  was  left  alone.  A  line  of 
Marston's  Malcontent  — 

Death's  a  good  fellow  and  keeps  open  house — 

struck  me  at  that  moment  as  a  palpable  lie. 

I  knocked  off,  however,  the  lid  of  my  coffin  and 
stepped  out.  The  place  was  dreadfully  dreary  and 
damp  and  I  became  troubled  with  ennui.  By  way  of 

197 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

amusement,  I  felt  my  way  among  the  numerous  coffins 
ranged  in  order  around.  I  lifted  them  down,  one  by 
one,  and  breaking  open  their  lids,  busied  myself  in 
speculations  about  the  mortality  within. 

"This/'  I  soliloquized,  tumbling  over  a  carcass, 
puffy,  bloated,  and  rotund  — "this  has  been,  no  doubt, 
in  every  sense  of  the  word,  an  unhappy,  an  un 
fortunate  man.  It  has  been  his  terrible  lot  not  to 
walk,  but  to  waddle;  to  pass  through  life  not  like 
a  human  being,  but  like  an  elephant ;  not  like  a  man, 
but  like  a  rhinoceros. 

"His  attempts  at  getting  on  have  been  mere  abor 
tions,  and  his  circumgyratory  proceedings  a  palpable 
failure.  Taking  a  step  forward,  it  has  been  his  mis 
fortune  to  take  two  toward  the  right,  and  three  to 
ward  the  left.  His  studies  have  been  confined  to  the 
poetry  of  Crabbe.  He  can  have  no  idea  of  the  wonder 
of  a  pirouette.  To  him  a  pas  de  papillon  has  been  an 
abstract  conception.  He  has  never  ascended  the 
summit  of  a  hill.  He  has  never  viewed  from  any 
steeple  the  glories  of  a  metropolis.  Heat  has  been  his 
mortal  enemy.  In  the  dog-days  his  days  have  been 
the  days  of  a  dog.  Therein  he  has  dreamed  of 
flames  and  suffocation,  of  mountains  upon  mountains, 
of  Pelion  upon  Ossa.  He  was  short  of  breath  —  to 
say  all  in  a  word,  he  was  short  of  breath.  He  thought 
it  extravagant  to  play  upon  wind-instruments.  He 
was  the  inventor  of  self-moving  fans,  wind-sails,  and 
ventilators.  He  patronized  Du  Pont  the  bellows- 
maker,  and  died  miserably  in  attempting  to  smoke  a 
cigar.  His  was  a  case  in  which  I  feel  a  deep  interest, 

198 


LOSS    OF    BREATH 

a  lot  in  which  I  sincerely  sympathize. 

"But  here,"  said  I,— "here,"  and  I  dragged  spite 
fully  from  its  receptacle  a  gaunt,  tall,  and  peculiar- 
looking  form,  whose  remarkable  appearance  struck  me 
with  a  sense  of  unwelcome  familiarity, — "here  is  a 
wretch  entitled  to  no  earthly  commiseration."  Thus 
saying,  in  order  to  obtain  a  more  distinct  view  of  my 
subject,  I  applied  my  thumb  and  forefinger  to  its  nose, 
and,  causing  it  to  assume  a  sitting  position  upon  the 
ground,  held  it  thus,  at  the  length  of  my  arm,  while 
I  continued  my  soliloquy. 

— "Entitled,"  I  repeated,  "to  no  earthly  commis 
eration.  Who,  indeed,  would  think  of  compassiona 
ting  a  shadow  ?  Besides,  has  he  not  had  his  full  share 
of  the  blessings  of  mortality?  He  was  the  origina 
tor  of  tall  monuments,  shot-towers,  lighting-rods, 
Lombardy  poplars.  His  treatise  upon  Shades  and 
Shadoivs  has  immortalized  him.  He  edited  with 
distinguished  ability  the  last  edition  of  South  on  the 
Bones.  He  went  early  to  college  and  studied  pneu 
matics.  He  then  came  home,  talked  eternally,  and 
played  upon  the  French  horn.  He  patronized  the  bag 
pipes.  Captain  Barclay,  who  walked  against  Time, 
would  not  walk  against  him.  Windham  and  Allbreath 
were  his  favorite  writers;  his  favorite  artist,  Phiz. 
He  died  gloriously  while  inhaling  gas  —  levique  flatu 
corrumpitur,  like  the  fama  pudicitiae  in  Hieronymus.* 
He  was  indubitably  a " 

*  Tenera  res  in  feminis  fama  pudicitiw  est,  et  quasi  ftos 
pulcherrimus,  cito  ad  levem  marcescit  auram,  levique  flatu 
corrumpitur,  maxime,  etc. —  Hieronymus  ad  Salvinam. 

199 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 


t  ^ 


'  How  CAN  you  ?  —  how  —  CAN  —  you  ? ' '  inter 
rupted  the  object  of  my  animadversions,  gasping  for 
breath,  and  tearing  off,  with  a  desperate  exertion,  the 
bandage  around  its  jaws, — "how  can  you,  Mr.  Lacko- 
breath,  be  so  infernally  cruel  as  to  pinch  me  in  that 
manner  by  the  nose?  Did  you  not  see  how  they  had 
fastened  up  my  mouth?  and  you  MUST  know,  if  you 
know  anything,  how  vast  a  superfluity  of  breath  I 
have  to  dispose  of!  If  you  do  NOT  know,  however, 
sit  down  and  you  shall  see.  In  my  situation  it  is 
really  a  great  relief  to  be  able  to  open  one's  mouth, 
to  be  able  to  expatiate,  to  be  able  to  communicate 
with  a  person  like  yourself,  who  do  not  think  your 
self  called  upon  at  every  period  to  interrupt  the 
thread  of  a  gentleman's  discourse.  Interruptions  are 
annoying  and  should  undoubtedly  be  abolished  — 
don't  you  think  so ?  —  no  reply,  I  beg  you,  one  person 
is  enough  to  be  speaking  at  a  time.  I  shall  be  done 
by-and-by,  and  then  you  may  begin.  How  the  devil, 
sir,  did  you  get  into  this  place  ?  —  not  a  word  I 
beseech  you  —  been  here  some  time  myself  —  terrible 
accident !  —  heard  of  it,  I  suppose  ?  —  awful  calamity ! 
—  walking  under  your  windows  —  some  short  while 
ago  —  about  the  time  you  were  stage-struck  —  hor 
rible  occurrence! — heard  of  ' catching  one's  breath,' 
eh  ?  —  hold  your  tongue  I  tell  you !  —  I  caught  some 
body  else 's !  —  had  always  too  much  of  my  own  — 
met  Blab  at  the  corner  of  the  street  —  wouldn't  give 
me  a  chance  for  a  word  —  couldn't  get  in  a  syllable 
edgeways  —  attacked,  consequently,  with  epilepsis  — 
Blab  made  his  escape  —  damn  all  fools !  —  they  took 

200 


LOSS    OF    BREATH 

me  up  for  dead,  and  put  me  in  this  place  —  pretty 
doings  all  of  them !  —  heard  all  you  said  about  me  — 
every  word  a  lie  —  horrible !  —  wonderful !  —  out 
rageous  !  —  hideous !  —  incomprehensible !  —  et  cetera, 
et  cetera,  et  cetera,  et  cetera " 

It  is  impossible  to  conceive  my  astonishment  at 
so  unexpected  a  discourse,  or  the  joy  with  which  I 
became  gradually  convinced  that  the  breath  so  for 
tunately  caught  by  the  gentleman  (whom  I  soon 
recognized  as  my  neighbor  Windenough)  was,  in 
fact,  the  identical  expiration  mislaid  by  myself  in 
the  conversation  with  my  wife.  Time,  place,  and 
circumstance  rendered  it  a  matter  beyond  question. 
I  did  not,  however,  immediately  release  my  hold  upon 
Mr.  W.'s  proboscis,  not,  at  least,  during  the  long 
period  in  which  the  inventor  of  Lombardy  poplars 
continued  to  favor  me  with  his  explanations. 

In  this  respect  I  was  actuated  by  that  habitual 
prudence  which  has  ever  been  my  predominating 
trait.  I  reflected  that  many  difficulties  might  still  lie 
in  the  path  of  my  preservation  which  only  extreme 
exertion  on  my  part  would  be  able  to  surmount. 
Many  persons,  I  considered,  are  prone  to  estimate 
commodities  in  their  possession,  however  valueless  to 
the  then  proprietor,  however  troublesome  or  dis 
tressing,  in  direct  ratio  with  the  advantages  to  be 
derived  by  others  from  their  attainment  or  by  them 
selves  from  their  abandonment.  Might  not  this  be 
the  case  with  Mr.  Windenough?  In  displaying 
anxiety  for  the  breath  of  which  he  was  at  present 
so  willing  to  get  rid,  might  I  not  lay  myself  open 

201 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

to  the  exactions  of  his  avarice  ?  There  are  scoundrels 
in  this  world,  I  remembered  with  a  sigh,  who  will  not 
scruple  to  take  unfair  opportunities  with  even  a  next- 
door  neighbor,  and  (this  remark  is  from  Epictetus) 
it  is  precisely  at  that  time  when  men  are  most  anxious 
to  throw  off  the  burden  of  their  own  calamities  that 
they  feel  the  least  desirous  of  relieving  them  in 
others. 

Upon  considerations  similar  to  these,  and  still  re 
taining  my  grasp  upon  the  nose  of  Mr.  W.,  I  accord 
ingly  thought  proper  to  model  my  reply. 

1  'Monster!"  I  began  in  a  tone  of  the  deepest 
indignation,  " monster  and  double-winded  idiot!  dost 
THOU,  whom  for  thine  iniquities  it  has  pleased  Heaven 
to  accurse  with  a  twofold  respiration  —  dost  THOU,  I 
say,  presume  to  address  me  in  the  familiar  language 
of  an  old  acquaintance?  'I  lie,'  forsooth!  and  'hold 
my  tongue, '  to  be  sure !  —  pretty  conversation,  in 
deed,  to  a  gentleman  with  a  single  breath !  —  all 
this,  too,  when  I  have  it  in  my  power  to  relieve  the 
calamity  under  which  thou  dost  so  justly  suffer,  to 
curtail  the  superfluities  of  thine  unhappy  respira 
tion/' 

Like  Brutus,  I  paused  for  a  reply,  with  which,  like 
a  tornado,  Mr.  Windenough  immediately  over 
whelmed  me.  Protestation  followed  upon  protesta 
tion  and  apology  upon  apology.  There  were  no  terms 
with  which  he  was  unwilling  to  comply,  and  there 
were  none  of  which  I  failed  to  take  the  fullest  ad 
vantage. 

Preliminaries  being   at  length   arranged,   my   ac- 

202 


LOSS    OF    BREATH 

quaintance  delivered  me  the  respiration;  for  which 
(having  carefully  examined  it)  I  gave  him  afterward 
a  receipt. 

I  am  aware  that  by  many  I  shall  be  held  to  blame 
for  speaking  in  a  manner  so  cursory  of  a  transaction 
so  impalpable.  It  will  be  thought  that  I  should  have 
entered  more  minutely  into  the  details  of  an  occur 
rence  by  which  —  and  this  is  very  true  —  much  new 
light  might  be  thrown  upon  a  highly  interesting 
branch  of  physical  philosophy. 

To  all  this  I  am  sorry  that  I  cannot  reply.  A  hint 
is  the  only  answer  which  I  am  permitted  to  make. 
There  were  CIRCUMSTANCES  —  but  I  think  it  much 
safer  upon  consideration  to  say  as  little  as  possible 
about  an  affair  so  delicate  —  so  DELICATE,  I  repeat, 
and  at  the  time  involving  the  interests  of  a  third 
party  whose  sulphurous  resentment  I  have  not  the 
least  desire,  at  this  moment,  of  incurring. 

We  were  not  long  after  this  necessary  arrange 
ment  in  effecting  an  escape  from  the  dungeons  of  the 
sepulchre.  The  united  strength  of  our  resuscitated 
voices  was  soon  sufficiently  apparent.  Scissors,  the 
Whig  editor,  republished  a  treatise  upon  "the  nature 
and  origin  of  subterranean  noises. "  A  reply,  re 
joinder,  confutation,  and  justification  followed  in  the 
columns  of  a  Democratic  gazette.  It  was  not  until 
the  opening  of  the  vault  to  decide  the  controversy 
that  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Windenough  and  myself 
proved  both  parties  to  have  been  decidedly  in  the 
wrong. 

I    cannot    conclude    these    details    of    some    very 

203 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

singular  passages  in  a  life  at  all  times  sufficiently 
eventful,  without  again  recalling  to  the  attention  of 
the  reader  the  merits  of  that  indiscriminate  philoso 
phy  which  is  a  sure  and  ready  shield  against  those 
shafts  of  calamity  which  can  neither  be  seen,  felt, 
nor  fully  understood.  It  was  in  the  spirit  of  this 
wisdom  that,  among  the  ancient  Hebrews,  it  was  be 
lieved  the  gates  of  heaven  would  be  inevitably  opened 
to  that  sinner  or  saint  who,  with  good  lungs  and 
implicit  confidence,  should  vociferate  the  word 
"AMEN!"  It  was  in  the  spirit  of  this  wisdom  that, 
when  a  great  plague  raged  at  Athens,  and  every 
means  had  been  in  vain  attempted  for  its  removal, 
Epimenides,  as  Laertius  relates,  in  his  second  book 
of  that  philosopher,  advised  the  erection  of  a  shrine 
and  temple  "to  the  proper  God." 

LYTTLETON  BARRY. 


204 


KING  PEST 

A  TALE  CONTAINING  AN  ALLEGORY 

The  gods  do  bear  and  well  allow  in  kings 
The  things  which  they  abhor  in  rascal  routes. 

— BUCKHURST'S  Tragedy  of  Ferrex  and  Porrex. 


A 


BOUT  twelve  o'clock,  one  night  in  the 
month  of  October,  and  during  the 
chivalrous  reign  of  the  third  Edward, 

two  seamen  belonging  to  the  crew  of 

the  Free  and  Easy  a  trading  schooner 
plying  between  Sluys  and  the  Thames,  and  then  at 
anchor  in  that  river,  were  much  astonished  to  find 
themselves  seated  in  the  tap-room  of  an  ale-house  in 
the  parish  of  St.  Andrews,  London,  which  ale-house 
bore  for  sign  the  portraiture  of  a  " Jolly  Tar." 

The  room,  although  ill-contrived,  smoke-blackened, 
low-pitched,  and  in  every  other  respect  agreeing  with 
the  general  character  of  such  places  at  the  period  — 
was,  nevertheless,  in  the  opinion  of  the  grotesque 
groups  scattered  here  and  there  within  it,  sufficiently 
well  adapted  to  its  purpose. 

Of  these  groups  our  two  seamen  formed,  I  think, 
the  most  interesting,  if  not  the  most  conspicuous. 

The  one  who  appeared  to  be  the  elder,  and  whom 
his  companion  addressed  by  the  characteristic  ap 
pellation  of  "Legs,"  was  at  the  same  time  much  the 
taller  of  the  two.  He  might  have  measured  six  feet 


205 


S  '" 

EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

and  a  half,  and  an  habitual  stoop  in  the  shoulders 
seemed  to  have  been  the  necessary  consequence  of  an 
altitude  so  enormous.  Superfluities  in  height  were, 
however,  more  than  accounted  for  by  deficiencies  in 
other  respects.  He  was  exceedingly  thin ;  and  might, 
as  his  associates  asserted,  have  answered,  when  drunk, 
for  a  pennant  at  the  mast-head,  or,  when  sober,  have 
served  for  a  jib-boom.  But  these  jests,  and  others  of 
a  similar  nature,  had  evidently  produced,  at  no  timey 
any  effect  upon  the  cachinnatory  muscles  of  the  tar. 
With  high  cheek-bones,  a  large  hawk-nose,  retreating 
chin,  fallen  under- jaw,  and  huge  protruding  white 
eyes,  the  expression  of  his  countenance,  although 
tinged  with  a  species  of  dogged  indifference  to  mat 
ters  and  things  in  general,  was  not  the  less  utterly 
solemn  and  serious  beyond  all  attempts  at  imitation 
or  description. 

The  younger  seaman  was,  in  all  outward  appear 
ance,  the  converse  of  his  companion.  His  stature 
could  not  have  exceeded  four  feet.  A  pair  of  stumpy 
bow-legs  supported  his  squat,  unwieldly  figure,  while 
his  unusually  short  and  thick  arms,  with  no  ordinary 
fists  at  their  extremities,  swung  off  dangling  from 
his  sides  like  the  fins  of  a  sea-turtle.  Small  eyes,  of 
no  particular  color,  twinkled  far  back  in  his  head. 
His  nose  remained  buried  in  the  mass  of  flesh  which 
enveloped  his  round,  full,  and  purple  face;  and  his 
thick  upper-lip  rested  upon  the  still  thicker  one 
beneath  with  an  air  of  complacent  self-satisfaction, 
much  heightened  by  the  owner's  habit  of  licking  them 
at  intervals.  He  evidently  regarded  his  tall  shipmate 

206 


KING    PEST 

with  a  feeling  half- wondrous,  half-quizzical;  and 
stared  up  occasionally  in  his  face  as  the  red  setting 
sun  stares  up  at  the  crags  of  Ben  Nevis. 

Various  and  eventful,  however,  had  been  the  pere 
grinations  of  the  worthy  couple  in  and  about  the  dif 
ferent  tap-houses  of  the  neighborhood  during  the 
earlier  hours  of  the  night.  Funds  even  the  most 
ample  are  not  always  everlasting:  and  it  was  with 
empty  pockets  our  friends  had  ventured  upon  the 
present  hostelrie. 

At  the  precise  period,  then,  when  this  history 
properly  commences,  Legs  and  his  fellow,  Hugh  Tar 
paulin,  sat,  each  with  both  elbows  resting  upon  the 
large  oaken  table  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  and  with 
a  hand  upon  either  cheek.  They  were  eyeing,  from 
behind  a  huge  flagon  of  unpaid-for  "humming  stuff," 
the  portentous  words,  "No  Chalk, "  which  to  their 
indignation  and  astonishment  were  scored  over  the 
doorway  by  means  of  that  very  mineral  whose  pres 
ence  they  purported  to  deny.  Not  that  the  gift  of 
deciphering  written  characters  —  a  gift  among  the 
commonalty  of  that  day  considered  little  less  caba- 
listical  than  the  art  of  inditing  —  could,  in  strict 
justice,  have  been  laid  to  the  charge  of  either  disciple 
of  the  sea ;  but  there  was,  to  say  the  truth,  a  certain 
twist  in  the  formation  of  the  letters  —  an  indescrib 
able  lee-lurch  about  the  whole  —  which  foreboded,  in 
the  opinion  of  both  seamen,  a  long  run  of  dirty 
weather;  and  determined  them  at  once,  in  the 
allegorical  words  of  Legs  himself,  to  "pump  ship, 
clew  up  all  sail,  and  scud  before  the  wind." 

207 


\ 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

Having  accordingly  disposed  of  what  remained  of 
the  ale,  and  looped  up  the  points  of  their  short  doub 
lets,  they  finallj  made  a  bolt  for  the  street.  Although 
Tarpaulin  rolled  twice  into  the  fireplace,  mistaking  it 
for  the  door,  yet  their  escape  was  at  length  happily 
effected,  and  half  after  twelve  o'clock  found  our 
heroes  ripe  for  mischief  and  running  for  life  down  a 
dark  alley  in  the  direction  of  St.  Andrew's  Stair, 
hotly  pursued  by  the  landlady  of  the  "Jolly  Tar." 

At  the  epoch  of  this  eventful  tale,  and  periodically 
for  many  years  before  and  after,  all  England,  but 
more  especially  the  metropolis,  resounded  with  the 
fearful  cry  of  "Plague!"  The  city  was  in  a  great 
measure  depopulated,  and  in  those  horrible  regions, 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  Thames,  where,  amid  the  dark, 
narrow,  and  filthy  lanes  and  alleys,  the  Demon  of 
Disease  was  supposed  to  have  had  his  nativity,  Awe, 
Terror,  and  Superstition  were  alone  to  be  found 
stalking  abroad. 

By  authority  of  the  king  such  districts  were  placed 
UNDER  BAN,  and  all  persons  forbidden,  under  pain  of 
death,  to  intrude  upon  their  dismal  solitude.  Yet 
neither  the  mandate  of  the  monarch,  nor  the  huge 
barriers  erected  at  the  entrances  of  the  streets,  nor 
the  prospect  of  that  loathsome  death  which,  with  al 
most  absolute  certainty,  overwhelmed  the  wretch 
whom  no  peril  could  deter  from  the  adventure,  pre 
vented  the  unfurnished  and  untenanted  dwellings 
from  being  stripped  by  the  hand  of  nightly  rapine 
of  every  article,  such  as  iron,  brass,  or  lead-work. 


208 


KING    PEST 

which  could  in  any  manner  be  turned  to  a  profitable 
account. 

Above  all,  it  was  usually  found,  upon  the  annual 
winter  opening  of  the  barriers,  that  locks,  bolts,  and 
secret  cellars  had  proved  but  slender  protection  to 
those  rich  stores  of  wines  and  liquors  which,  in  con 
sideration  of  the  risk  and  trouble  of  removal,  many 
of  the  numerous  dealers  having  shops  in  the  neighbor 
hood  had  consented  to  trust,  during  the  period  of 
exile,  to  so  insufficient  a  security. 

But  there  were  very  few  of  the  terror-stricken 
people  who  attributed  these  doings  to  the  agency  of 
human  hands.  Pest-spirits,  plague-goblins,  and  fever- 
demons  were  the  popular  imps  of  mischief;  and  tales 
so  blood-chilling  were  hourly  told,  that  the  whole  mass 
of  forbidden  buildings  was  at  length  enveloped  in 
terror  as  in  a  shroud,  and  the  plunderer  himself  was 
often  scared  away  by  the  horrors  his  own  depreda 
tions  had  created;  leaving  the  entire  vast  circuit  of 
prohibited  district  to  gloom,  silence,  pestilence,  and 
death. 

It  was  by  one  of  the  terrific  barriers  already  men 
tioned,  and  which  indicated  the  region  beyond  to  be 
under  the  pest-ban,  that,  in  scrambling  down  an  alley, 
Legs  and  the  worthy  Hugh  Tarpaulin  found  their 
progress  suddenly  impeded.  To  return  was  out  of 
the  question,  and  no  time  was  to  be  lost,  as  their 
pursuers  were  close  upon  their  heels.  With  thorough 
bred  seamen  to  clamber  up  the  roughly  fashioned 
plank-work  was  a  trifle;  and,  maddened  with  the 
twofold  excitement  of  exercise  and  liquor,  they  leaped 

1—14  209 


0 


EDGAR    ALLAN     POE 

unhesitatingly  down  within  the  enclosure,  and,  hold 
ing  on  their  drunken  course  with  shouts  and  yellings, 
were  soon  bewildered  in  its  noisome  and  intricate  re 
cesses. 

Had  they  not,  indeed,  been  intoxicated  beyond 
moral  sense  their  reeling  footsteps  must  have  been 
palsied  by  the  horrors  of  their  situation.  The  air 
was  cold  and  misty.  The  paving-stones,  loosened  from 
their  beds,  lay  in  wild  disorder  amid  the  tall,  rank 
grass  which  sprang  up  around  the  feet  and  ankles. 
Fallen  houses  choked  up  the  streets.  The  most  fetid 
and  poisonous  smells  everywhere  prevailed ;  —  and 
by  the  aid  of  that  ghastly  light  which,  even  at  mid 
night,  never  fails  to  emanate  from  a  vapory  and 
pestilential  atmosphere,  might  be  discerned  lying  in 
the  by-paths  and  alleys,  or  rotting  in  the  windowless 
habitations,  the  carcass  of  many  a  nocturnal  plunderer 
arrested  by  the  hand  of  the  plague  in  the  very  per 
petration  of  his  robbery. 

But  it  lay  not  in  the  power  of  images,  or  sensa 
tions,  or  impediments  such  as  these  to  stay  the  course 
of  men  who,  naturally  brave,  and  at  that  time,  es 
pecially,  brimful  of  courage  and  of  "humming  stuff," 
would  have  reeled,  as  straight  as  their  condition 
might  have  permitted,  undauntedly  into  the  very 
jaws  of  death.  Onward  —  still  onward,  stalked  the 
grim  Legs,  making  the  desolate  solemnity  echo  and 
re-echo  with  yells  like  the  terrific  war-whoop  of  the 
Indian;  and  onward,  still  onward,  rolled  the  dumpy 
Tarpaulin,  hanging  on  to  the  doublet  of  his  more 
active  companion,  and  far  surpassing  the  latter  ?s  most 

210 


KING    PEST 

strenuous  exertions  in  the  way  of  vocal  Inusic  by 
bull-roarings  in  basso  from  the  profundity  of  his 
stentorian  lungs. 

They  had  now  evidently  reached  the  stronghold 
of  the  pestilence.  Their  way  at  every  step  or  plunge 
grew  more  noisome  and  more  horrible  —  the  paths 
more  narrow  and  more  intricate.  Huge  stones  and 
beams  falling  momently  from  the  decaying  roofs 
above  them  gave  evidence,  by  their  sullen  and  heavy 
descent,  of  the  vast  height  of  the  surrounding  houses ; 
and  while  actual  exertion  became  necessary  to  force 
a  passage  through  frequent  heaps  of  rubbish,  it  was 
by  no  means  seldom  that  the  hand  fell  upon  a  skeleton 
or  rested  upon  a  more  fleshy  corpse. 

Suddenly,  as  the  seamen  stumbled  against  the  en 
trance  of  a  tall  and  ghastly-looking  building,  a  yell 
more  than  usually  shrill  from  the  throat  of  the  ex 
cited  Legs  was  replied  to  from  within,  in  a  rapid 
succession  of  wild,  laughter-like,  and  fiendish  shrieks. 
Nothing  daunted  at  sounds  which,  of  such  a  nature, 
at  such  a  time,  and  in  such  a  place,  might  have 
curdled  the  very  blood  in  hearts  less  irrevocably  on 
fire,  the  drunken  couple  rushed  headlong  against  the 
door,  burst  it  open,  and  staggered  into  the  midst  of 
things  with  a  volley  of  curses. 

The  room  within  which  they  found  themselves 
proved  to  be  the  shop  of  an  undertaker;  but  an  open 
trap-door  in  a  corner  of  the  floor  near  the  entrance 
looked  down  upon  a  long  range  of  wine-cellars,  whose 
depths  the  occasional  sound  of  bursting  bottles  pro 
claimed  to  be  well  stored  with  their  appropriate  con- 

211 


O 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

tents.  In  the  middle  of  the  room  stood  a  table,  In 
the  center  of  which,  again,  arose  a  huge  tub  of  what 
appeared  to  be  punch.  Bottles  of  various  wines  and 
cordials,  together  with  jugs,  pitchers,  and  flagons  of 
every  shape  and  quality,  were  scattered  profusely 
upon  the  board.  Around  it,  upon  coffin-tressels,  was 
seated  a  company  of  six.  This  company  I  will  en 
deavor  to  delineate  one  by  one. 

Fronting  the  entrance,  and  elevated  a  little  above 
his  companions,  sat  a  personage  who  appeared  to  be 
the  president  of  tne  table.  His  stature  was  gaunt 
and  tall,  and  Legs  was  confounded  to  behold  in  him 
a  figure  more  emaciated  than  himself.  His  face  was 
as  yellow  as  saffron  —  but  no  feature  excepting  one 
alone  was  sufficiently  marked  to  merit  a  particular 
description.  This  one  consisted  in  a  forehead  so  un 
usually  and  hideously  lofty  as  to  have  the  appearance 
of  a  bonnet  or  crown  of  flesh  superadded  upon  the 
natural  head.  His  mouth  was  puckered  and  dimpled 
into  an  expression  of  ghastly  affability,  and  his  eyes, 
as  indeed  the  eyes  of  all  at  table,  were  glazed  over 
with  the  fumes  of  intoxication.  This  gentleman  was 
clothed  from  head  to  foot  in  a  richly  embroidered 
black  silk-velvet  pall,  wrapped  negligently  around 
his  form  after  the  fashion  of  a  Spanish  cloak.  His 
head  was  stuck  full  of  sable  hearse-plumes,  which  he 
nodded  to  and  fro  with  a  jaunty  and  knowing  air, 
and  in  his  right  hand  he  held  a  huge  human  thigh 
bone,  with  which  he  appeared  to  have  been  just 
knocking  down  some  member  of  the  company  for  a 
song. 

212 


KING    PEST 

Opposite  him,  and  with  her  back  to  the  door,  was 
a  lady  of  no  whit  the  less  extraordinary  character. 
Although  quite  as  tall  as  the  person  just  described, 
she  had  no  right  to  complain  of  his  unnatural 
emaciation.  She  was  evidently  in  the  last  stage  of  a 
dropsy;  and  her  figure  resembled  nearly  that  of  the 
huge  puncheon  of  October  beer  which  stood,  with  the 
head  driven  in,  close  by  her  side,  in  a  corner  of  the 
chamber.  Her  face  was  exceedingly  round,  red,  and 
full;  and  the  same  peculiarity,  or  rather  want  of 
peculiarity,  attached  itself  to  her  countenance  which 
I  before  mentioned  in  the  case  of  the  president  — 
that  is  to  say,  only  one  feature  of  her  face  was  suf 
ficiently  distinguished  to  need  a  separate  character 
ization;  indeed,  the  acute  Tarpaulin  immediately 
observed  that  the  same  remark  might  have  applied 
to  each  individual  person  of  the  party,  every  one  of 
whom  seemed  to  possess  a  monopoly  of  some  par 
ticular  portion  of  physiognomy.  With  the  lady  in 
question  this  portion  proved  to  be  the  mouth.  Com 
mencing  at  the  right  ear  it  swept  with  a  terrific 
chasm  to  the  left,  the  short  pendants  which  she  wore 
in  either  auricle  continually  bobbing  into  the  aperture. 
She  made,  however,  every  exertion  to  keep  her  mouth 
closed  and  look  dignified,  in  a  dress  consisting  of  a 
newly  starched  and  ironed  shroud  coming  up  close 
under  her  chin,  with  a  crimpled  ruffle  of  cambric 
muslin. 

At  her  right  hand  sat  a  diminutive  young  lady 
whom  she  appeared  to  patronize.  This  delicate 
little  creature,  in  the  trembling  of  her  wasted  fingers, 

213 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

in  the  livid  hue  of  her  lips,  and  in  the  slight  hectic 
spot  which  tinged  her  otherwise  leaden  complexion, 
gave  evident  indications  of  a  galloping  consumption. 
An  air  of  extreme  haut  ton,  however,  pervaded  her 
whole  appearance;  she  wore,  in  a  graceful  and 
degagc  manner,  a  large  and  beautiful  winding-sheet 
of  the  finest  India  lawn;  her  hair  hung  in  ringlets 
over  her  neck ;  a  soft  smile  played  about  her  mouth ; 
but  her  nose,  extremely  long,  thin,  sinuous,  flexible, 
and  pimpled,  hung  down  far  below  her  under-lip, 
and,  in  spite  of  the  delicate  manner  in  which  she 
.now  and  then  moved  it  to  one  side  or  the  other  with 
her  tongue,  gave  to  her  countenance  a  somewhat 
equivocal  expression. 

Over  against  her,  and  upon  the  left  of  the  drop 
sical  lady,  was  seated  a  little  puffy,  wheezing,  and 
gouty  old  man,  whose  cheeks  reposed  upon  the 
shoulders  of  their  owner  like  two  huge  bladders  of 
Oporto  wine.  With  his  arms  folded,  and  with  one 
bandaged  leg  deposited  upon  the  table,  he  seemed 
to  think  himself  entitled  to  some  consideration.  He 
evidently  prided  himself  much  upon  every  inch  of 
his  personal  appearance,  but  took  more  especial  de 
light  in  calling  attention  to  its  gaudy-colored  sur- 
tout.  This,  to  say  the  truth,  must  have  cost  him  no 
little  money,  and  was  made  to  fit  him  exceedingly 
well  —  being  fashioned  from  one  of  the  curiously 
embroidered  silken  covers  appertaining  to  those 
glorious  escutcheons  which,  in  England  and  else 
where,  are  customarily  hung  up  in  some  conspicuous 
place  upon  the  dwellings  of  departed  aristocracy. 

214 


KING    PEST 

Next  to  him,  and  at  the  right  hand  of  the  presi 
dent,  was  a  gentleman  in  long  white  hose  and  cotton 
drawers.  His  frame  shook,  in  a  ridiculous  manner, 
with  a  fit  of  what  Tarpaulin  called  "the  horrors." 
His  jaws,  which  had  been  newly  shaved,  were 
tightly  tied  up  by  a  bandage  of  muslin;  and  his 
arms  being  fastened  in  a  similar  way  at  the  wrists 
prevented  him  from  helping  himself  too  freely  to  the 
liquors  upon  the  table ;  a  precaution  rendered  neces 
sary,  in  the  opinion  of  Legs,  by  the  peculiarly 
sottish  and  wine-bibbing  cast  of  his  visage.  A  pair 
of  prodigious  ears,  nevertheless,  which  it  was  no 
doubt  found  impossible  to  confine,  towered  away  into 
the  atmosphere  of  the  apartment  and  were  occa 
sionally  pricked  up  in  a  spasm  at  the  sound  of  the 
drawing  of  a  cork. 

Fronting  him,  sixthly  and  lastly,  was  situated  a 
singularly  stiff -looking  personage,  who,  being  afflicted 
with  paralysis,  must,  to  speak  seriously,  have  felt 
very  ill  at  ease  in  his  unaccommodating  habiliments. 
He  was  habited,  somewhat  uniquely,  in  a  new  and 
handsome  mahogany  coffin.  Its  top  or  head-piece 
pressed  upon  the  skull  of  the  wearer  and  extended 
over  it  in  the  fashion  of  a  hood,  giving  to  the  entire 
face  an  air  of  indescribable  interest.  Armholes  had 
been  cut  in  the  sides  for  the  sake  not  more  of  elegance 
than  of  convenience ;  but  the  dress,  nevertheless,  pre 
vented  its  proprietor  from  sitting  as  erect  as  his 
associates ;  and  as  he  lay  reclining  against  his  tressel, 
at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees,  a  pair  of  huge  goggle 


215 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

eyes  rolled  up  their  awful  whites  toward  the  ceiling 
in  absolute  amazement  at  their  own  enormity. 

Before  each  of  the  party  lay  a  portion  of  a  skull, 
which  was  used  as  a  drinking-cup.  Overhead  was 
suspended  a  human  skeleton  by  means  of  a  rope  tied 
round  one  of  the  legs  and  fastened  to  a  ring  in  the 
ceiling.  The  other  limb,  confined  by  no  such  fetter, 
stuck  off  from  the  body  at  right  angles,  causing  the 
whole  loose  and  rattling  frame  to  dangle  and  twirl 
about  at  the  caprice  of  every  occasional  puff  of  wind 
which  found  its  way  into  the  apartment.  In  the  cra 
nium  of  this  hideous  thing  lay  a  quantity  of  ignited 
charcoal,  which  threw  a  fitful  but  vivid  light  over  the 
entire  scene ;  while  coffins  and  other  wares  appertain 
ing  to  the  shop  of  an  undertaker  were  piled  high  up 
around  the  room  and  against  the  windows,  prevent 
ing  any  ray  from  escaping  into  the  street. 

At  sight  of  this  extraordinary  assembly  and  of 
their  still  more  extraordinary  paraphernalia,  our  two 
seamen  did  not  conduct  themselves  with  that  degree 
of  decorum  which  might  have  been  expected.  Legs, 
leaning  against  the  wall  near  which  he  happened  to 
be  standing,  dropped  his  lower  jaw  still  lower  than 
usual,  and  spread  open  his  eyes  to  their  fullest  ex 
tent;  while  Hugh  Tarpaulin,  stooping  down  so  as 
to  bring  his  nose  upon  a  level  with  the  table,  and 
spreading  out  a  palm  upon  either  knee,  burst  into  a 
long,  loud,  and  obstreperous  roar  of  very  ill-timed 
and  immoderate  laughter. 

"Without,  however,  taking  offence  at  behavior  so 


216 


KING    PEST 

excessively  rude,  the  tall  president  smiled  very 
graciously  upon  the  intruders  —  nodded  to  them  in  a 
dignified  manner  with  his  head  of  sable  plumes  — 
and,  arising,  took  each  by  an  arm  and  led  him  to  a 
seat  which  some  others  of  the  company  had  placed 
in  the  meantime  for  his  accommodation.  Legs  to 
all  this  offered  not  the  slightest  resistance,  but  sat 
down  as  he  was  directed;  while  the  gallant  Hugh, 
removing  his  coffin-tressel  from  its  station  near  the 
head  of  the  table  to  the  vicinity  of  the  little  con 
sumptive  lady  in  the  winding-sheet,  plumped  down 
by  her  side  in  high  glee,  and,  pouring  out  a  skull 
of  red  wine,  quaffed  it  to  their  better  acquaintance. 
But  at  this  presumption  the  stiff  gentleman  in  the 
coffin  seemed  exceedingly  nettled;  and  serious  con 
sequences  might  have  ensued  had  not  the  president, 
rapping  upon  the  table  with  his  truncheon,  diverted 
the  atention  of  all  present  to  the  following  speech: 
11  It  becomes  our  duty  upon  the  present  happy 


occasion 

1 1 


Avast  there!"  interrupted  Legs,  looking  very 
serious, — "avast  there  a  bit,  I  say,  and  tell  us  who 
the  devil  ye  all  are,  and  what  business  ye  have  here, 
rigged  off  like  the  foul  fiends,  and  swilling  the  snug 
blue  ruin  stowed  away  for  the  winter  by  my  honest 
shipmate,  Will  Wimble  the  undertaker!" 

At  this  unpardonable  piece  of  ill-breeding,  all  the 
original  company  half  started  to  their  feet  and  uttered 
the  same  rapid  succession  of  wild,  fiendish  shrieks 
which  had  before  caught  the  attention  of  the  seamen. 
The  president,  however,  was  the  first  to  recover  his 

217 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

composure,  and  at  length,  turning  to  Legs  with  great 
dignity,  recommenced : 

"Most  willingly  will  we  gratify  any  reasonable 
curiosity  on  the  part  of  guests  so  illustrious,  un 
bidden  though  they  be.  Know  then  that  in  these 
dominions  I  am  monarch,  and  here  rule  with  un 
divided  empire  under  the  title  of  'King  Pest  the 
First/ 

"This  apartment,  which  you  no  doubt  profanely 
suppose  to  be  the  shop  of  Will  Wimble  the  under 
taker, —  a  man  whom  we  know  not,  and  whose 
plebeian  appellation  has  never  before  this  night 
thwarted  our  royal  ears, —  this  apartment,  I  say,  is 
the  dais-chamber  of  our  palace,  devoted  to  the 

•  •    .     • 

councils  of  our  kingdom  and  to  other  sacred  and 
lofty  purposes. 

"The  noble  lady  who  sits  opposite  is  Queen  Pest, 
our  Serene  Consort.  The  other  exalted  personages 
whom  you  behold  are  all  of  our  family,  and  wear  the 
insignia  of  the  blood  royal  under  the  respective  titles 
of  'His  Grace  the  Arch-Duke  Pest-If erous, '  'His 
Grace  the  Duke  Pest-Ilential, '  'His  Grace  the  Duke 
Tern-Pest,'  and  'Her  Serene  Highness  the  Arch- 
Duchess  Ana-Pest. ' 

"As  regards,"  continued  he,  "your  demand  of 
the  business  upon  which  we  sit  here  in  council,  we 
might  be  pardoned  for  replying  that  it  concerns,  and 
concerns  ALONE,  our  own  private  and  regal  interest, 
and  is  in  no  manner  important  to  any  other  than 
ourself.  But  in  consideration  of  those  rights  to 
which  as  guests  and  strangers  you  may  feel  your- 

218 


KING    PEST 

selves  entitled,  we  will  futhermore  explain  that  we 
are  here  this  night,  prepared  by  deep  research  and 
accurate  investigation,  to  examine,  analyze,  and 
thoroughly  determine  the  indefinable  spirit  —  the 
incomprehensible  qualities  and  nature  —  of  those 
inestimable  treasures  of  the  palate,  the  wines,  ales, 
and  liquors  of  this  goodly  metropolis;  by  so  doing 
to  advance  not  more  our  own  designs  than  the  true 
welfare  of  that  unearthly  sovereign  whose  reign  is 
over  us  all,  whose  dominions  are  unlimited,  and 
whose  name  is  '  Death/  : 

"  "Whose  name  is  Davy  Jones!"  ejaculated 
Tarpaulin,  helping  the  lady  by  his  side  to  a  skull 
of  liquor,  and  pouring  out  a  second  for  himself. 

"  Profane  varlet!"  said  the  president,  now  turning 
his  attention  to  the  worthy  Hugh,  "  profane  and  exe 
crable  wretch!  we  have  said,  that  in  consideration  of 
those  rights  which,  even  in  thy  filthy  person,  we  feel 
no  inclination  to  violate,  we  have  condescended  to 
make  reply  to  thy  rude  and  unreasonable  inquiries. 
We  nevertheless,  for  your  unhallowed  intrusion  upon 
our  councils,  believe  it  our  duty  to  mulct  thee  and  thy 
companion  in  each  a  gallon  of  blackstrap,  having  im 
bibed  which  to  the  prosperity  of  our  kingdom,  at  a 
single  draught,  and  upon  your  bended  knees,  ye  shall 
be  forthwith  free  either  to  proceed  upon  your  way  or 
remain  and  be  admitted  to  the  privileges  of  our  table, 
according  to  your  respective  and  individual  pleas 
ures." 

"It  would  be  a  matter  of  utter  impossibility/' 
replied  Legs,  whom  the  assumptions  and  dignity  of 

219 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

King  Pest  the  First  had  evidently  inspired  with  some 
feelings  of  respect,  and  who  arose  and  steadied  him 
self  by  the  table  as  he  spoke, — "it  would,  please  your 
Majesty,  be  a  matter  of  utter  impossibility  to  stow 
away  in  my  hold  even  one-fourth  of  that  same  liquor 
which  your  Majesty  has  just  mentioned.  To  say 
nothing  of  the  stuffs  placed  on  board  in  the  forenoon 
by  way  of  ballast,  and  not  to  mention  the  various 
ales  and  liquors  shipped  this  evening  at  various  sea 
ports,  I  have,  at  present,  a  full  cargo  of  'humming 
stuff'  taken  in  and  duly  paid  for  at  the  sign  of  the 
'Jolly  Tar.'  You  will  therefore,  please  your  Majesty, 
be  so  good  as  to  take  the  will  for  the  deed  —  for  by 
no  manner  of  means  either  can  I  or  will  I  swallow 
another  drop  —  least  of  all  a  drop  of  that  villaiious 
bilge- water  that  answers  to  the  name  of  'black 
strap/  " 

"Belay  that!"  interrupted  Tarpaulin,  astonished 
not  more  at  the  length  of  his  companion's  speech 
than  at  the  nature  of  his  refusal,— "Belay  that  you 
lubber!  and  I  say,  Legs,  none  of  your  palaver.  MY 
hull  is  still  light,  although  I  confess  you  yourself  se?rn 
to  be  a  little  top-heavy;  and  as  far  as  the  matter  of 
your  share  of  the  cargo,  why,  rather  than  raise  a 
squall  I  would  find  stowage-room  for  it  myself, 
but " 

"This  proceeding,"  interposed  the  president,  "is 
by  no  means  in  accordance  with  the  terms  of  the 
mulct  or  sentence,  which  is  in  its  nature  Median, 
and  not  to  be  altered  or  recalled.  The  conditions  we 
have  imposed  must  be  fulfilled  to  the  letter,  and  thaf 


220 


KING    PEST 

without  a  moment's  hesitation,  in  failure  of  which 
fulfilment  we  decree  that  you  do  here  be  tied  neck 
and  heels  together  and  duly  drowned  as  rebels  in  yon 
hogshead  of  October  beer!" 

"A  sentence!  —  a  sentence!  —  a  righteous  and 
just  sentence !  —  a  glorious  decree !  —  a  most  worthy 
and  upright  and  holy  condemnation!"  shouted  the 
Pest  family  all  together.  The  King  elevated  his 
forehead  into  innumerable  wrinkles;  the  gouty  little 
old  man  puffed  like  a  pair  of  bellows ;  the  lady  of  the 
winding-sheet  waved  her  nose  to  and  fro ;  the  gentle- 
man  in  the  cotton  drawers  pricked  up  his  ears;  she 
of  the  shroud  gasped  like  a  dying  fish ;  and  he  of  the 
coffin  looked  stiff  and  rolled  up  his  eyes. 

"Ugh!  ugh!  ugh!"  chuckled  Tarpaulin,  without 
heeding  the  general  excitation,  ' '  ugh !  ugh !  ugh !  — 
ugh !  ugh !  ugh !  ugh !  —  ugh !  ugh !  ugh !  I  was  say 
ing,"  said  he,  "I  was  saying  when  Mr.  King  Pest 
poked  in  his  marlin-spike,  that  as  for  the  matter  of 
two  or  three  gallons  more  or  less  of  blackstrap,  it 
was  a  trifle  to  a  tight  sea-boat  like  myself  not  over- 
stowed;  but  when  it  comes  to  drinking  the  health  of 
the  Devil  (  whom  God  assoilzie !)  and  going  down  upon 
my  marrow-bones  to  His  ill-favored  Majesty  there, 
whom  I  know,  as  well  as  I  know  myself  to  be  a 
sinner,  to  be  nobody  in  the  whole  world  but  Tim 
Hurlygurly  the  stage  player!  —  why!  it's  quite  an 
other  guess  sort  of  a  thing,  and  utterly  and  alto 
gether  past  my  comprehension." 

He  was  not  allowed  to  finish  this  speech  in  tran- 


£21 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

quillity.     At  the  name  of  Tim  Hurlygurly  the  whole 
assembly  leaped  from  their  seats. 

"Treason!"  shouted  His  Majesty  King  Pest  the 
First. 

"Treason!"  said  the  little  man  with  the  gout. 

"Treason!"  screamed  the  Arch-Duchess  Ana-Pest. 

"Treason!"  muttered  the  gentleman  with  his  jaws 
tied  up. 

"Treason!"  growled  he  of  the  coffin. 

"Treason!  treason!"  shrieked  Her  majesty  of  the 
mouth ;  and,  seizing  by  the  hinder  part  of  his  breeches 
the  unfortunate  Tarpaulin,  who  had  just  commenced 
pouring  out  for  himself  a  skull  of  liquor,  she  lifted 
him  high  into  the  air  and  let  him  fall  without  cere 
mony  into  the  huge  open  puncheon  of  his  beloved  ale. 
Bobbing  up  and  down  for  a  few  seconds,  like  an 
apple  in  a  bowl  of  toddy,  he  at  length  finally  dis 
appeared  amid  the  whirlpool  of  foam  which,  in  the 
already  effervescent  liquor,  his  struggles  easily  suc 
ceeded  in  creating. 

Not  tamely,  however,  did  the  tall  seaman  behold 
the  discomfiture  of  his  companion.  Jostling  King 
Pest  through  the  open  trap,  the  valiant  Legs  slammed 
the  door  down  upon  him  with  an  oath  and  strode 
toward  the  center  of  the  room.  Here,  tearing  down 
the  skeleton  which  swung  over  the  table,  he  laid  it 
about  him  with  so  much  energy  and  good-will  that, 
as  the  last  glimpses  of  light  died  away  within  the 
apartment,  he  succeeded  in  knocking  out  the  brains 
of  the  little  gentleman  with  the  gout.  Rushing  then 
with  all  his  force  against  the  fatal  hogshead  full  of 

222 


KING    PEST 

October  ale  and  Hugh  Tarpaulin  he  rolled  it  over  and 
over  in  an  instant.  Out  poured  a  deluge  of  liquor 
so  fierce  —  so  impetuous  —  so  overwhelming  —  that 
the  room  was  flooded  from  wall  to  wall;  the  loaded 
table  was  overturned,  the  tressels  were  thrown  upon 
their  backs,  the  tub  of  punch  into  the  fireplace,  and 
the  ladies  into  hysterics.  Piles  of  death-furniture 
floundered  about.  Jugs,  pitchers,  and  carboys 
mingled  promiscuously  in  the  melee,  and  wicker 
flagons  encountered  desperately  with  bottles  of  junk. 
The  man  with  the  horrors  was  drowned  upon  the 
spot,  the  little  stiff  gentleman  floated  off  in  his 
coffin,  and  the  victorious  Legs,  seizing  by  the  waist  the 
fat  lady  in  the  shroud,  rushed  out  with  her  into  the 
street  and  made  a  bee-line  for  the  Free  and  Easy, 
followed  under  easy  sail  by  the  redoubtable  Hugh 
Tarpaulin,  who,  having  sneezed  three  or  four  times, 
panted  and  puffed  after  him  with  the  Arch-Duchess 
Ana-Pest. 


223 


METZENGERSTEIN 


Pestis  eram  vivus  —  moriens  tua  mors   ero. 

MARTIN  LUTHER. 


H 


ORROB    and   fatality   have   been   stalking 
abroad  in  all  ages.     Why  then  give  a 
date  to  the  story  I  have  to  tell?     Let 
it  suffice  to  say  that  at  the  period  of 
which    I    speak    there    existed,    in    the 
interior  of  Hungary,   a  settled  although  hidden  be 
lief  in  the  doctrines  of  the  Metempsychosis.     Of  the 
doctrines  themselves,  that  is,   of  their  falsity  or  of 
their  probability,  I  say  nothing.     I  assert,  however, 
that  much  of  our  incredulity  (as  La  Bruyere  says  of 
all  our  unhappiness),  liment  de  ne  pouvoir  etre  seuls."  * 
But   there   were   some   points    in   the   Hungarian 
superstition  which   were  fast  verging  to   absurdity. 
They  —  the    Hungarians  —  differed    very    essentially 
from  their  Eastern  authorities.     For  example:  "The 
soul,"  said  the  former  (I  give  the  words  of  an  acute 
and  intelligent  Parisian),   "ne  demeure  qu'une  seule 
fois  dans  un  corps  sensible:  an  reste  —  un  cheval,  un 


*  Mercier,  in  L'An  deux  mille  qiiatre  cents  qua  ran  te,  seri 
ously  maintains  the  doctrines  of  the  Metempsychosis,  and 
J.  D 'Israeli  says  that  "no  system  is  so  simple  and  so  little 
repugnant  to  the  understanding."  Colonel  Ethan  Allen,  the 
" Green  Mountain  Boy,"  is  also  said  to  have  been  a  serious 
metempsychosist. 

224 
Vol.    t 


METZENGERSTEIN 

chien,  un  homme  meme,  n'  est  que  la  ressemUance  peu 
tangible  de  ces  animaux." 

The  families  of  Berlifitzing  and  Metzengerstein 
had  been  at  variance  for  centuries.  Never  before 
were  two  houses  so  illustrious  mutually  embittered  by 
hostility  so  deadly.  The  origin  of  this  enmity  seems 
to  be  found  in  the  words  of  an  ancient  prophecy: 
"A  lofty  name  shall  have  a  fearful  fall  when,  as  the 
rider  over  his  horse,  the  mortality  of  Metzengerstein 
shall  triumph  over  the  immortality  of  Berlifitzing." 

To  be  sure  the  words  themselves  had  little  or  no 
meaning.  But  more  trivial  causes  have  given  rise  — 
and  that  no  long  while  ago  —  to  consequences  equally 
eventful.  Besides,  the  estates,  which  were  contig 
uous,  had  long  exercised  a  rival  influence  in  the  af 
fairs  of  a  busy  government.  Moreover,  near  neigh 
bors  are  seldom  friends;  and  the  inhabitants  of  the 
Castle  Berlifitzing  might  look  from  their  lofty 
buttresses  into  the  very  windows  of  the  Palace 
Metzengerstein.  Least  of  all  had  the  more  than 
feudal  magnificence,  thus  discovered,  a  tendency  to 
allay  the  irritable  feelings  of  the  less  ancient  and 
less  wealthy  Berlifitzings.  What  wonder,  then,  that 
the  words,  however  silly,  of  that  prediction,  should 
have  succeeded  in  setting  and  keeping  at  variance 
two  families  already  predisposed  to  quarrel  by  every 
instigation  of  hereditary  jealousy?  The  prophecy 
seemed  to  imply,  if  it  implied  anything,  a  final  tri 
umph  on  the  part  of  the  already  more  powerful 
house ;  and  was,  of  course,  remembered  with  the  more 
fitter  animosity  by  the  weaker  and  less  influential. 

I—I5  225 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

Wilhelm,  Count  Berlifitzing,  although  loftily  de 
scended,  was,  at  the  epoch  of  this  narrative  an  in 
firm  and  doting  old  man,  remarkable  for  nothing  but 
an  inordinate  and  inveterate  personal  antipathy  to 
the  family  of  his  rival,  and  so  passionate  a  love  of 
horses  and  of  hunting  that  neither  bodily  infirmity, 
great  age,  nor  mental  incapacity  prevented  his  daily 
participation  in  the  dangers  of  the  chase. 

Frederick,  Baron  Metzengerstein,  was,  on  the 
other  hand,  not  yet  of  age.  His  father,  the  Minister 

G ,  died  young.  His  mother,  the  Lady  Mary, 

followed  him  quickly.  Frederick  was  at  that  time  in 
his  eighteenth  year.  In  a  city  eighteen  years  are  no 
long  period;  but  in  a  wilderness,  in  so  magnificent 
a  wilderness  as  that  old  principality,  the  pendulum 
vibrates  with  a  deeper  meaning. 

From  some  peculiar  circumstances  attending  the 
administration  of  his  father,  the  young  Baron,  at  the 
decease  of  the  former,  entered  immediately  upon  his 
vast  possessions.  Such  estates  were  seldom  held  be 
fore  by  a  nobleman  of  Hungary.  His  castles  were 
without  number.  The  chief  in  point  of  splendor  and 
extent  was  the  Palace  Metzengerstein.  The  boundary 
line  of  his  dominions  was  never  clearly  defined;  but 
his  principal  park  embraced  a  circuit  of  fifty  miles. 

Upon  the  succession  of  a  proprietor  so  young,  with 
a  character  so  well  known,  to  a  fortune  so  un 
paralleled,  little  speculation  was  afloat  in  regard  to 
his  probable  course  of  conduct.  And,  indeed,  for  the 
space  of  three  days  the  behavior  of  the  heir  out- 
Heroded  Herod,  and  fairly  surpassed  the  expecta- 

226 


METZENGERSTEIN 

tions  of  his  most  enthusiastic  admirers.  Shameful 
debaucheries,  flagrant  treacheries,  unheard-of  atroci 
ties,  gave  his  trembling  vassals  quickly  to  understand 
that  no  servile  submission  on  their  part  —  no 
punctilios  of  conscience  on  his  own  —  were  thence 
forward  to  prove  any  security  against  the  remorse 
less  fangs  of  a  petty  Caligula.  On  the  night  of  the 
fourth  day  the  stables  of  the  Castle  Berlifitzing  were 
discovered  to  be  on  fire;  and  the  unanimous  opinipn 
of  the  neighborhood  added  the  crime  of  the  incendiary 
to  the  already  hideous  list  of  the  Baron's  misde 
meanors  and  enormities. 

But  during  the  tumult  occasioned  by  this  oc 
currence  the  young  nobleman  himself  sat  apparently 
buried  in  meditation,  in  a  vast  and  desolate  upper 
apartment  of  the  family  palace  of  Metzengerstein. 
The  rich  although  faded  tapestry  hangings  which 
swung  gloomily  upon  the  walls  represented  the 
shadowy  and  majestic  forms  of  a  thousand  illustrious 
ancestors.  HERE,  rich-ermined  priests  and  pontifical 
dignitaries,  familiarly  seated  with  the  autocrat  and 
the  sovereign,  put  a  veto  on  the  wishes  of  a  temporal 
king  or  restrained  with  the  fiat  of  papal  supremacy 
the  rebellious  sceptre  of  the  arch-enemy.  THERE  the 
dark,  tall  statures  of  the  Princes  Metzengerstein, 
their  muscular  war-coursers  plunging  over  the  car 
casses  of  fallen  foes,  startled  the  steadiest  nerves 
with  their  vigorous  expression;  and  HERE,  again,  the 
voluptuous  and  swan-like  figures  of  the  dames  of 
days  gone  by  floated  away  in  the  mazes  of  an  unreal 
dance  to  the  strains  of  imaginary  melody. 

227 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

But  as  the  Baron  listened,  or  affected  to  listen, 
to  the  gradually  increasing  uproar  in  the  stables  of 
Berlifitzing,  or  perhaps  pondered  upon  some  more 
novel,  some  more  decided  act  of  audacity,  his  eyes 
were  turned  unwittingly  to  the  figure  of  an  enormous 
and  unnaturally  colored  horse,  represented  in  the 
tapestry  as  belonging  to  a  Saracen  ancestor  of  the 
family  of  his  rival.  The  horse  itself,  in  the  fore 
ground  of  the  design,  stood  motionless  and  statue- 
like,  while  farther  back  its  discomfited  rider  perished 
by  the  dagger  of  a  Metzengerstein. 

On  Frederick's  lip  arose  a  fiendish  expression,  as 
he  became  aware  of  the  direction  which  his  glance 
had,  without  his  consciousness,  assumed.  Yet  he  did 
not  remove  it.  On  the  contrary,  he  could  by  no 
means  account  for  the  overwhelming  anxiety  which 
appeared  falling  like  a  pall  upon  his  senses.  It  was 
with  difficulty  that  he  reconciled  his  dreamy  and 
incoherent  feelings  with  the  certainty  of  being  awake. 
The  longer  he  gazed,  the  more  absorbing  became  the 
spell,  the  more  impossible  did  it  appear  that  he  could 
ever  withdraw  his  glance  from  the  fascination  of  that 
tapestry.  But  the  tumult  without,  becoming  suddenly 
more  violent,  with  a  compulsory  exertion  he  diverted 
his  attention  to  the  glare  of  ruddy  light  thrown  full 
by  the  flaming  stables  upon  the  windows  of  the 
apartment. 

The  action,  however,  was  but  momentary;  his 
gaze  returned  mechanically  to  the  wall.  To  his  ex 
treme  horror  and  astonishment  the  head  of  the 
gigantic  steed  had,  in  the  meantime,  altered  its 

228 


METZENGERSTEIN 

position.  The  neck  of  the  animal,  before  arched,  as 
if  in  compassion,  over  the  prostrate  body  of  its  lord, 
was  now  extended,  at  full  length,  in  the  direction  of 
the  Baron.  The  eyes,  before  invisible,  now  wore  an 
energetic  and  human  expression,  while  they  gleamed 
with  a  fiery  and  unusual  red;  and  the  distended  lips 
of  the  apparently  enraged  horse  left  in  full  view  his 
sepulchral  and  disgusting  teeth. 

Stupefied  with  terror  the  young  nobleman  tottered 
to  the  door.  As  he  threw  it  open  a  flash  of  red  light, 
streaming  far  into  the  chamber,  flung  his  shadow  with 
a  clear  outline  against  the  quivering  tapestry;  and 
he  shuddered  to  perceive  that  shadow  —  as  he 
staggered  awhile  upon  the  threshold  —  assuming  the 
exact  position,  and  precisely  filling  up  the  contour, 
of  the  relentless  and  triumphant  murder  of  the 
Saracen  Berlifitzing. 

To  lighten  the  depression  of  his  spirits  the  Baron 
hurried  into  the  open  air.  At  the  principal  gate  of 
the  palace  he  encountered  three  equerries.  With 
much  difficulty,  and  at  the  imminent  peril  of  their 
lives,  they  were  restraining  the  convulsive  plunges  of 
a  gigantic  and  fiery-colored  horse. 

"Whose  horse?  Where  did  you  get  him?"  de 
manded  the  youth,  in  a  querulous  and  husky  tone,  as 
he  became  instantly  aware  that  the  mysterious  steed 
in  the  tapestried  chamber  was  the  very  counterpart 
of  the  furious  animal  before  his  eyes. 

"He  is  your  own  property,  sire/'  replied  one  of 
the  equerries,  "at  least  he  is  claimed  by  no  other 
owner.  We  caught  him  flying,  all  smoking  and  foam- 

22Q 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

ing  with  rage,  from  the  burning  stables  of  the  Castle 
Berlifitzing.  Supposing  him  to  have  belonged  to  the 
old  Count's  stud  of  foreign  horses,  we  led  him  back 
as  an  estray.  But  the  grooms  there  disclaim  any 
title  to  the  creature;  which  is  strange,  since  he  bears 
evident  marks  of  having  made  a  narrow  escape  from 
the  flames." 

"The  letters  W.  V.  B.  are  also  branded  very 
distinctly  on  his  forehead, "  interrupted  a  second 
equerry;  "I  supposed  them,  of  course,  to  be  the  ini 
tials  of  William  Von  Berlifitzing  —  but  all  at  the 
castle  are  positive  in  denying  any  knowledge  of  the 
horse." 

"Extremely   singular!  "   said   the   young   Baron, 

Owith  a  musing  air,  and  apparently  unconscious  of  the 
meaning  of  his  words.  "He  is,  as  you  say,  a  remark 
able  horse,  a  prodigious  horse!  although,  as  you  very 
justly  observe,  of  a  suspicious  and  untractable  charac 
ter;  let  him  be  mine,  however,"  he  added,  after  a 
pause,  "perhaps  a  rider  like  Frederick  of  Metzenger- 
stein  may  tame  even  the  devil  from  the  stables  of 
Berlifitzing." 

'  *  You  are  mistaken,  my  lord ;  the  horse,  as  I  think 
we  mentioned,  is  NOT  from  the  stables  of  the  Count. 
If  such  had  been  the  case,  we  know  our  duty  better 
than  to  bring  him  into  the  presence  of  a  noble  of 
your  family. 

"True!  "  observed  the  Baron,  drily;  and  at  that 
instant  a  page  of  the  bedchamber  came  from  the  pal 
ace  with  a  heightened  color  and  a  precipitate  step. 
He  whispered  into  his  master's  ear  an  account  of  the 

230 


METZENGERSTEIN 

sudden  disappearance  of  a  small  portion  of  the  tap 
estry  in  an  apartment  which  he  designated,  entering, 
at  the  same  time,  into  particulars  of  a  minute  and 
circumstantial  character;  but  from  the  low  tone  of 
voice  in  which  these  latter  were  communicated  noth 
ing  escaped  to  gratify  the  excited  curiosity  of  the 
equerries. 

The  young  Frederick,  during  the  conference, 
seemed  agitated  by  a  variety  of  emotions.  He  soon, 
however,  recovered  his  composure,  and  an  expression 
of  determined  malignancy  settled  upon  his  counte 
nance  as  he  gave  peremptory  orders  that  the  apart 
ment  in  question  should  be  immediately  locked  up 
and  the  key  placed  in  his  own  possession. 

"Have  you  heard  of  the  unhappy  death  of  the  old 
hunter,  Berlifitzing?  "  said  one  of  his  vassals  to  the 
Baron,  as,  after  the  departure  of  the  page,  the  huge 
steed  which  that  nobleman  had  adopted  as  his  own 
plunged  and  curveted  with  redoubled  fury  down  the 
long  avenue  which  extended  from  the  palace  to  the 
stables  of  Metzengerstein. 

"No!  "  said  the  Baron,  turning  abruptly  toward 
the  speaker;  "  dead!  say  you?  " 

"It  is  indeed  true,  my  lord;  and,  to  the  noble  of 
your  name,  will  be,  I  imagine,  no  unwelcome  intelli 
gence." 

A  rapid  smile  shot  over  the  countenance  of  this  lis 
tener.  "How  died  he?" 

"In  his  rash  exertions  to  rescue  a  favorite  portion 
of  the  hunting  stud,  he  has  himself  perished  miserably 
in  the  flames. ' ' 

231 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

"I__n__d— e— e— d— !"  ejaculated  the  Baron,  as 
if  slowly  and  deliberately  impressed  with  the  truth 
of  some  exciting  idea. 

"Indeed,"  repeated  the  vassal. 

"Shocking!"  said  the  youth,  calmly,  and  turned 
quietly  into  the  palace. 

From  this  date  a  marked  alteration  took  place  in 
the  outward  demeanor  of  the  dissolute  young  Baron 
Frederick  Von  Metzengerstein.  Indeed,  his  behavior 
disappointed  every  expectation  and  proved  little  in 
accordance  with  the  views  of  many  a  manoauvring 
mamma;  while  his  habits  and  manner  still  less  than 
formerly  offered  anything  congenial  with  those  of  the 
neighboring  aristocracy.  He  was  never  to  be  seen 
beyond  the  limits  of  his  own  domain,  and,  in  his 
wide  and  social  world,  was  utterly  companionless, 
unless,  indeed,  that  unnatural,  impetuous,  and  fiery- 
colored  horse  which  he  henceforward  continually 
bestrode  had  any  mysterious  right  to  the  title  of  his 
friend. 

Numerous  invitations  on  the  part  of  the  neigbor- 
hood  for  a  long  time,  however,  periodically  came  in. 
"Will  the  Baron  honor  our  festivals  with  his  pres 
ence?  "—"Will  the  Baron  join  us  in  a  hunting  of 
the  boar?  "  "Metzengerstein  does  not  hunt," 
"Metzengerstein  will  not  attend,"  were  the  haughty 
and  laconic  answers. 

These  repeated  insults  were  not  to  be  endured  by 
an  imperious  nobility.  Such  invitations  became  less 
cordial,  less  frequent;  in  time  they  ceased  altogether. 
The  widow  of  the  unfortunate  Count  Berlifitzing  was 

232 


METZENGERSTEIN 


even  heard  to  express  a  hope  "that  the  Baron  might 
be  at  home  when  he  did  not  wish  to  be  at  home,  since 
he  disdained  the  company  of  his  equals ;  and  ride  when 
he  did  not  wish  to  ride,  since  he  preferred  the  society 
of  a  horse."  This,  to  be  sure,  was  a  very  silly  ex 
plosion  of  hereditary  pique;  and  merely  proved  how 
singularly  unmeaning  our  sayings  are  apt  to  become, 
when  we  desire  to  be  unusually  energetic. 

The  charitable,  nevertheless,  attributed  the  altera 
tion  in  the  conduct  of  the  young  nobleman  to  the 
natural  sorrow  of  a  son  for  the  untimely  loss  of  his 
parents,  forgetting,  however,  his  atrocious  and  reck 
less  behavior  during  the  short  period  immediately 
succeeding  that  bereavement.  Some  there  were,  in 
deed,  who  suggested  a  too  haughty  idea  of  self- 
consequence  and  dignity.  Others  again  (among  whom 
may  be  mentioned  the  family  physician),  did  not 
hesitate  in  speaking  of  morbid  melancholy  and  hered 
itary  ill-health ;  while  dark  hints  of  a  more  equivocal 
nature  were  current  among  the  multitude. 

Indeed,  the  Baron's  perverse  attachment  to  his 
lately  acquired  charger  —  an  attachment  which 
seemed  to  attain  new  strength  from  every  fresh  ex 
ample  of  the  animal's  ferocious  and  demon-like 
propensities  —  at  length  became,  in  the  eyes  of  all 
reasonable  men,  a  hideous  and  unnatural  fervor. 
In  the  glare  of  noon,  at  the  dead  hour  of  night,  in 
sickness  or  in  health,  in  calm  or  in  tempest,  the  young 
Metzengerstein  seemed  riveted  to  the  saddle  of  that 
colossal  horse,  whose  intractable  audacities  so  well 
accorded  with  his  own  spirit. 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

There  were  circumstances,  moreover,  which, 
coupled  with  late  events,  gave  an  unearthly  and 
portentous  character  to  the  mania  of  the  rider  and  to 
the  capabilities  of  the  steed.  The  space  passed  over 
in  a  single  leap  had  been  accurately  measured  and 
was  found  to  exceed,  by  an  astounding  difference,  the 
wildest  expectations  of  the  most  imaginative.  The 
Baron,  besides,  had  no  particular  NAME  for  the  animal, 
although  all  the  rest  in  his  collection  were  distin 
guished  by  characteristic  appellations.  His  stable, 
too,  was  appointed  at  a  distance  from  the  rest;  and 
with  regard  to  grooming  and  other  necessary  offices, 
none  but  the  owner  in  person  had  ventured  to  officiate 
or  even  to  enter  the  enclosure  of  that  horse's  partic 
ular  stall.  It  was  also  to  be  observed  that,  although 
the  three  grooms  who  had  caught  the  steed  as  he  fled 
from  the  conflagration  at  Berlifitzing  had  succeeded 
in  arresting  his  course  by  means  of  a  chain-bridle  and 
noose,  yet  not  one  of  the  three  could  with  any  cer 
tainty  affirm  that  he  had,  during  the  dangerous  strug 
gle  or  at  any  period  thereafter,  actually  placed  his 
hand  upon  the  body  of  the  beast.  Instances  of  pecu 
liar  intelligence  in  the  demeanor  of  a  noble  and  high- 
spirited  horse  are  not  to  be  supposed  capable  of  excit 
ing  unreasonable  attention,  but  there  were  certain 
circumstances  which  intruded  themselves  perforce 
upon  the  most  sceptical  and  phlegmatic;  and  it  is 
said  there  were  times  when  the  animal  caused  the 
gaping  crowd  who  stood  around  to  recoil  in  horror 
from  the  deep  and  impressive  meaning  of  his  terrible 
stamp  —  times  when  the  young  Metzengerstein  turned 

234 


METZENGERSTEIN 

pale  and  shrunk  away  from  the  rapid  and  searching 
expression  of  his  human-looking  eye. 

Among  all  the  retinue  of  the  Baron,  however,  none 
were  found  to  doubt  the  ardor  of  that  extraordinary 
affection  which  existed  on  the  part  of  the  young  noble 
man  for  the  fiery  qualities  of  his  horse ;  at  least,  none 
but  an  insignificant  and  misshapen  little  page,  whose 
deformities  were  in  everybody's  way,  and  whose  opin 
ions  were  of  the  least  possible  importance.  He  (if  his 
ideas  were  worth  mentioning  at  all)  had  the  effrontery 
to  assert  that  his  master  never  vaulted  into  the  saddle 
without  an  unaccountable  and  almost  imperceptible 
shudder;  and  that,  upon  his  return  from  every  long- 
continued  and  habitual  ride  an  expression  of  tri 
umphant  malignity  distorted  every  muscle  in  his 
countenance. 

One  tempestuous  night,  Metzengerstein,  awaking 
from  a  heavy  slumber,  descended  like  a  maniac  from 
his  chamber,  and,  mounting  in  hot  haste,  bounded 
away  into  the  mazes  of  the  forest.  An  occurrence  so 
common  attracted  no  particular  attention,  but  his  re 
turn  was  looked  for  with  intense  anxiety  on  the  part 
of  his  domestics,  when,  after  some  hours'  absence,  the 
stupendous  and  magnificent  battlements  of  the  Palace 
Metzengerstein  were  discovered  crackling  and  rocking 
to  their  very  foundation  under  the  influence  of  a  dense 
and  livid  mass  of  ungovernable  fire. 

As  the  flames,  when  first  seen,  had  already  made  so 
terrible  a  progress  that  all  efforts  to  save  any  portion 
of  the  building  were  evidently  futile,  the  astonished 
neighborhood  stood  idly  around  in  silent  if  not  pa- 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

thetic  wonder.  But  a  new  and  fearful  object  soon 
riveted  the  attention  of  the  multitude,  and  proved 
how  much  more  intense  is  the  excitement  wrought  in 
the  feelings  of  a  crowd  by  the  contemplation  of  hu 
man  agony  than  that  brought  about  by  the  most  ap 
palling  spectacles  of  inanimate  matter. 

Upon  the  long  avenue  of  aged  oaks  which  led  from 
the  forest  to  the  main  entrance  of  the  Palace  Met- 
zengerstein,  a  steed,  bearing  an  unbonneted  and 
disordered  rider,  was  seen  leaping  with  an  impetuosity 
which  outstripped  the  very  Demon  of  the  Tempest. 

The  career  of  the  horseman  was  indisputably,  on 
his  own  part,  uncontrollable.  The  agony  of  his  counte 
nance,  the  convulsive  struggle  of  his  frame,  gave  evi 
dence  of  superhuman  exertion:  but  no  sound  save  a 
solitary  shriek  escaped  from  his  lacerated  lips,  which 
were  bitten  through  and  through  in  the  intensity  of 
terror.  One  instant  and  the  clattering  of  hoofs  re 
sounded  sharply  and  shrilly  above  the  roaring  of  the 
flames  and  the  shrieking  of  the  winds;  another,  and, 
clearing  at  a  single  plunge  the  gateway  and  the  moat, 
the  steed  bounded  far  up  the  tottering  staircases  of  the 
palace,  and  with  its  rider  disappeared  amid  the  whirl 
wind  of  chaotic  fire. 

The  fury  of  the  tempest  immediately  died  away 
and  a  dead  calm  sullenly  succeeded.  A  white  flame 
still  enveloped  the  building  like  a  shroud,  and,  stream 
ing  far  away  into  the  quiet  atmosphere,  shot  forth  a 
glare  of  preternatural  light;  while  a  cloud  of  smoke 
settled  heavily  over  the  battlements  in  the  distinct 
colossal  figure  of  —  A  HORSE. 


WILLIAM   WILSON 

What  say  of  it?    What  say  of  CONSCIENCE  grim, 
That  sceptre  in  my  path? 

CHAMBERLAIN  's  Pharronida. 


ET  me  call  myself,  for  the  present,  William 
Wilson.     The  fair  page  now  lying  be- 
.  fore  me  need  not  be  sullied  with  my 

real  appellation.  This  has  been  already 
too  much  an  object  for  the  scorn,  for 
the  horror  of  the  detestation,  of  my  race.  To  the  utter 
most  regions  of  the  globe  have  not  the  indignant  winds 
bruited  its  unparalleled  infamy?  Oh,  outcast  of  all 
outcasts  most  abandoned!  to  the  earth  art  thou  not 
forever  dead  ?  to  its  honors,  to  its  flowers,  to  its  golden 
aspirations?  and  a  cloud,  dense,  dismal,  and  limit 
less,  does  it  not  hang  eternally  between  thy  hopes 
and  heaven? 

I  would  not,  it  I  could,  here  or  to-day,  embody  a 
record  of  my  later  years  of  unspeakable  misery,  and 
unpardonable  crime.  This  epoch,  these  later  years, 
took  unto  themselves  a  sudden  elevation  in  turpitude, 
whose  origin  alone  it  is  my  present  purpose  to  assign. 
Men  usually  grow  base  by  degrees.  From  me,  in  an 
instant,  all  virtue  dropped  bodily,  as  a  mantle.  From 


237 


EDGAR    ALLAN     POE 

comparatively  trival  wickedness  I  passed,  with  the 
stride  of  a  giant,  into  more  than  the  enormities  of 
an  Elah-Gabalus.  What  chance,  what  one  event, 
brought  this  evil  thing  to  pass,  bear  with  me  while  I 
relate.  Death  approaches;  and  the  shadow  which 
foreruns  him  has  thrown  a  softening  influence  over 
my  spirit.  I  long,  in  passing  through  the  dim  valley, 
for  the  sympathy  —  I  had  nearly  said  for  the  pity  — 
of  my  fellow-men.  I  would  fain  have  them  believe  that 
I  have  been,  in  some  measure,  the  slave  of  circum 
stances  beyond  human  control.  I  would  wish  them 
to  seek  out  for  me,  in  the  details  I  am  about  to  give, 
some  little  oasis  of  FATALITY  amid  a  wilderness  of 
error.  I  would  have  them  allow  —  what  they  cannot 
refrain  from  allowing  —  that,  although  temptation 
may  have  erewhile  existed  as  great,  man  was  never 
THUS,  at  least,  tempted  before,  certainly,  never  THUS 
fell.  And  is  it  therefore  that  he  has  never  thus  suf 
fered?  Have  I  not,  indeed,  been  living  in  a  dream? 
And  am  I  not  now  dying  a  victim  to  the  horror  and 
the  mystery  of  the  wildest  of  all  sublunary  visions? 
I  am  the  descendant  of  a  race  whose  imaginative 
and  easily  excitable  temperament  has  at  all  times 
rendered  them  remarkable;  and,  in  my  earliest  in 
fancy,  I  gave  evidence  of  having  fully  inherited  the 
family  character.  As  I  advanced  in  years  it  was  more 
strongly  developed;  becoming,  for  many  reasons,  a 
cause  of  serious  disquietude  to  my  friends,  and  of 
positive  injury  to  myself.  I  grew  self-willed,  addicted 
to  the  wildest  caprices,  and  a  prey  to  the  most  un 
governable  passions.  Weak-minded  and  beset  with 

238 


WILLIAM   WILSON 

constitutional  infirmities  akin  to  my  own,  my  parents 
could  do  but  little  to  check  the  evil  propensities  which 
distinguished  me.  Some  feeble  and  ill-directed  efforts 
resulted  in  complete  failure  on  their  part,  and,  of 
course,  in  total  triumph  on  mine.  Thenceforward 
my  voice  was  a  household  law;  and  at  an  age  when 
few  children  have  abandoned  their  leading-strings, 
I  was  left  to  the  guidance  of  my  own  will,  and  be 
came,  in  all  but  my  name,  the  master  of  my  own 
actions. 

My  earliest  recollections  of  a  school-life  are  con 
nected  with  a  large,  rambling,  Elizabethan  house  in 
a  misty-looking  village  of  England,  where  were  a  vast 
number  of  gigantic  and  gnarled  trees,  and  where  all 
the  houses  were  excessively  ancient.  In  truth,  it  was 
a  dream-like  and  spirit-soothing  place,  that  venerable 
old  town.  At  this  moment,  in  fancy,  I  feel  the  re 
freshing  chilliness  of  its  deeply-shadowed  avenues, 
inhale  the  fragrance  of  its  thousand  shrubberies,  and 
thrill  anew  with  undefinable  delight  at  the  deep  hollow 
note  of  the  church-bell,  breaking,  each  hour,  with 
sullen  and  sudden  roar,  upon  the  stillness  of  the 
dusky  atmosphere  in  which  the  fretted  Gothic  steeple 
lay  imbedded  and  asleep. 

It  gives  me,  perhaps,  as  much  of  pleasure  as  I  can 
now  in  any  manner  experience,  to  dwell  upon  minute 
recollections  of  the  school  and  its  concerns.  Steeped 
in  misery  as  I  am  —  misery,  alas!  only  too  real  —  I 
shall  be  pardoned  for  seeking  relief,  however  slight 
and  temporary,  in  the  weakness  of  a  few  rambling 
details.  These,  moreover,  utterly  trivial,  and  even 

239 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

ridiculous  in  themselves,  assume,  to  my  fancy,  ad 
ventitious  importance,  as  connected  with  a  period  and 
a  locality  when  and  where  I  recognize  the  first 
ambiguous  monitions  of  the  destiny  which  afterward 
so  fully  overshadowed  me.  Let  me  then  remember. 

The  house,  I  have  said,  was  old  and  irregular.  The 
grounds  were  extensive,  and  a  high  and  solid  brick 
wall,  topped  with  a  bed  of  mortar  and  broken  glass, 
encompassed  the  whole.  This  prison-like  rampart 
formed  the  limit  of  our  domain;  beyond  it  we  saw 
but  thrice  a  week:  once  every  Saturday  afternoon, 
when,  attended  by  two  ushers,  we  were  permitted  to 
take  brief  walks  in  a  body  through  some  of  the  neigh 
boring  fields,  and  twice  during  Sunday,  when  we  were 
paraded  in  the  same  formal  manner  to  the  morning 
and  evening  service  in  the  one  church  of  the  village. 
Of  this  church  the  principal  of  our  school  was  pastor. 
With  how  deep  a  spirit  of  wonder  and  perplexity  was 
I  wont  to  regard  him  from  our  remote  pew  in  the  gal 
lery,  as,  with  step  solemn  and  slow,  he  ascended  the 
pulpit!  This  reverend  man,  with  countenance  so  de 
murely  benign,  with  robes  so  glossy  and  so  clerically 
flowing,  with  wig  so  minutely  powdered,  so  rigid  and 
so  vast, —  could  this  be  he  who,  of  late,  with  sour 
visage,  and  in  snuffy  habiliments,  administered,  ferule 
in  hand,  the  Draconian  Laws  of  the  academy?  Oh, 
gigantic  paradox,  too  utterly  monstrous  for  solution! 

At  an  angle  of  the  ponderous  wall  frowned  a  more 
ponderous  gate.  It  was  riveted  and  studded  with  iron 
bolts,  and  surmounted  with  jagged  iron  spikes.  What 
impressions  of  deep  awe  did  it  inspire!  It  was  never 

240 


WILLIAM   WILSON 

opened  save  for  the  three  periodical  egressions  and 
ingressions  already  mentioned;  then,  in  every  creak 
of  its  mighty  hinges,  we  found  a  plentitude  of  mystery, 
a  world  of  matter  for  solemn  remark,  or  for  more 
solemn  meditation. 

The  extensive  enclosure  was  irregular  in  form,  hav 
ing  many  capacious  recesses.  Of  these,  three  or  four 
of  the  largest  constituted  the  play-ground.  It  was 
level,  and  covered  with  fine  hard  gravel.  I  well  re 
member  it  had  no  trees,  nor  benches,  nor  anything 
similar  within  it.  Of  course,  it  was  in  the  rear  of  the 
house.  In  front  lay  a  small  parterre,  planted  with 
box  and  other  shrubs ;  but  through  this  sacred  division 
we  passed  only  upon  rare  occasions  indeed,  such  as 
a  first  advent  to  school  or  final  departure  thence,  or, 
perhaps,  when  a  parent  or  friend  having  called  for  us, 
we  joyfully  took  our  way  home  for  the  Christmas  or 
Midsummer  holidays. 

But  the  house!  how  quaint  an  old  building  was 
this !  —  to  me  how  veritably  a  palace  of  enchantment ! 
There  was  really  no  end  to  its  windings,  to  its  in 
comprehensible  subdivisions.  It  was  difficult,  at  any 
given  time,  to  say  with  certainty  upon  which  of  its 
two  stories  one  happened  to  be.  From  each  room  to 
every  other  there  were  sure  to  be  found  three  or  four 
steps  either  in  ascent  or  descent.  Then  the  lateral 
branches  were  innumerable,  inconceivable,  and  so 
returning  in  upon  themselves  that  our  most  exact 
ideas  in  regard  to  the  whole  mansion  were  not  very 
far  different  from  those  with  which  we  pondered  upon 
infinity.  During  the  five  years  of  my  residence  here 

I— 16  241 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

I  was  never  able  to  ascertain  with  precision  in  what 
remote  locality  lay  the  little  sleeping  apartment 
assigned  to  myself  and  some  eighteen  or  twenty  other 
scholars. 

The  school -room  was  the  largest  in  the  house  —  I 
could  not  help  thinking,  in  the  world.  It  was  very 
long,  narrow,  and  dismally  low,  with  pointed  Gothic 
windows  and  a  ceiling  of  oak.  In  a  remote  and  terror- 
inspiring  angle  was  a  square  enclosure  of  eight  or 
ten  feet,  comprising  the  sanctum,  " during  hours/'  of 
our  principal,  the  Reverend  Dr.  Bransby.  It  was  a 
solid  structure,  with  massy  door,  sooner  than  open 
which  in  the  absence  of  the  "Dominie,"  we  would 
all  have  willingly  perished  by  the  peine  forte  et  dure. 
In  other  angles  were  two  other  similar  boxes,  far  less 
reverenced,  indeed,  but  still  greatly  matters  of  awe. 
One  of  these  was  the  pulpit  of  the  "classical"  usher, 
one  of  the  "English  and  mathematical."  Inter 
spersed  about  the  room,  crossing  and  recrossing  in 
endless  irregularity,  were  innumerable  benches  and 
desks,  black,  ancient,  and  time-worn,  piled  desper 
ately  with  much  bethumbed  books,  and  so  beseamed 
with  initial  letters,  names  at  full  length,  grotesque 
figures,  and  other  multiplied  efforts  of  the  knife,  as  to 
have  entirely  lost  what  little  of  original  form  might 
have  been  their  portion  in  days  long  departed.  A 
huge  bucket  with  water  stood  at  one  extremity  of 
the  room,  and  a  clock  of  stupendous  dimensions  at 
the  other. 

Encompassed  by  the  massy  walls  of  this  venerable 
academy,  I  passed,  yet  not  in  tedium  of  disgust,  the 

242 


WILLIAM   WILSON 

years  of  the  third  lustrum  of  my  life.  The  teeming 
brain  of  childhood  requires  no  external  world  of 
incident  to  occupy  or  amuse  it;  and  the  apparently 
dismal  monotony  of  a  school  was  replete  with  more 
intense  excitement  than  my  riper  youth  has  derived 
from  luxury,  or  my  full  manhood  from  crime.  Yet  I 
must  believe  that  my  first  mental  development  had 
in  it  much  of  the  uncommon,  even  much  of  the  outre. 
Upon  mankind  at  large  the  events  of  every  early 
existence  rarely  leave  in  mature  age  any  definite  im 
pression.  All  is  gray  shadow,  a  weak  and  irregular 
remembrance,  an  indistinct  regathering  of  feeble 
pleasures  and  phantasmagoric  pains.  With  me  this 
is  not  so.  In  childhood,  I  must  have  felt  with  the 

•  energy  of  a  man  what  I  now  find  stamped  upon 

memory  in  lines  as  vivid,  as  deep,  and  as  durable  as 
the  exergues  of  the  Carthaginian  medals. 

Yet  in  fact  —  in  the  fact  of  the  world's  view  — 
how  little  was  there  to  remember!  The  morning's 
awakening,  the  nightly  summons  to  bed ;  the  connings, 
the  recitations;  the  periodical  half -holidays  and  per 
ambulations;  the  play-ground,  with  its  broils,  its 
pastimes,  its  intrigues, —  these,  by  a  mental  sorcery 
long  forgotten,  were  made  to  involve  a  wilderness  of 
sensation,  a  world  of  rich  incident,  an  universe  of 
varied  emotion,  of  excitement  the  most  passionate  and 
spirit-stirring.  "0/t,  le  "bon  temps,  que  ce  siecle  de  fer!  " 

In  truth,  the  ardor,  the  enthusiasm,  and  imperious- 
ness  of  my  disposition  soon  rendered  me  a  marked 
character  among  my  schoolmates,  and  by  slow  but 
natural  gradations  gave  me  an  ascendency  over  all 

243 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

not  greatly  older  than  myself;  over  all,  with  a  single 
exception.  This  exception  was  found  in  the  person  of 
a  scholar,  who,  although  no  relation,  bore  the  same 
Christian  and  surname  as  myself, —  a  circumstance,  in 
fact,  little  remarkable;  for,  notwithstanding  a  noble 
descent,  mine  was  one  of  those  every-day  appellations 
which  seem,  by  prescriptive  right,  to  have  been,  time 
out  of  mind,  the  common  property  of  the  mob.  In 
this  narrative  I  have  therefore  designated  myself  as 
William  Wilson,  a  fictitious  title  not  very  dissimilar 
to  the  real.  My  namesake  alone,  of  those  who  in 
school  phraseology  constituted  "our  set/'  presumed 
to  compete  with  me  in  the  studies  of  the  class,  in  the 
sports  and  broils  of  the  play-ground ;  to  refuse  implicit 
belief  in  my  assertions,  and  submission  to  my  will; 
indeed,  to  interfere  with  my  arbitrary  dictation  in 
any  respect  whatsoever.  If  there  is  on  earth  a  su 
preme  and  unqualified  despotism,  it  is  the  despotism 
of  a  master-mind  in  boyhood  over  the  less  energetic 
spirits  of  its  companions. 

Wilson's  rebellion  was  to  me  a  source  of  the  great 
est  embarrassment;  the  more  so  as,  in  spite  of  the 
bravado  with  which  in  public  I  made  a  point  of 

\treating  him  and  his  pretensions,  I  secretly  felt  that 
I  feared  him,  and  could  not  help  thinking  the  equality 
which  he  maintained  so  easily  with  myself  a  proof 
of  his  true  superiority ;  since  not  to  be  overcome  cost 
me  a  perpetual  struggle.  Yet  this  superiority,  even 
this  equality,  was  in  truth  acknowledged  by  no  one 
but  myself;  our  associates,  by  some  unaccountable 
blindness,  seemed  not  even  to  suspect  it.  Indeed,  his 

244 


WILLIAM    WILSON 

competition,  his  resistance,  and  especially  his  imper 
tinent  and  dogged  interference  with  my  purposes, 
were  not  more  pointed  than  private.  He  appeared  to 
be  destitute  alike  of  the  ambition  which  urged,  and  of 
the  passionate  energy  of  mind  which  enabled,  me  to 
excel.  In  his  rivalry  he  might  have  been  supposed 
actuated  solely  by  a  whimsical  desire  to  thwart, 
astonish,  or  mortify  myself ;  although  there  were  times 
when  I  could  not  help  observing,  with  a  feeling  made 
up  of  wonder,  abasement,  and  pique,  that  he  mingled 
with  his  injuries,  his  insults,  or  his  contradictions,  a 
certain  most  inappropriate,  and  assuredly  most  un 
welcome  AFFECTIONATENESS  of  manner.  I  could  only 
conceive  this  singular  behavior  to  arise  from  a  con 
summate  self-conceit  assuming  the  vulgar  airs  of 
patronage  and  protection. 

Perhaps  it  was  this  latter  trait  in  Wilson's  conduct, 
conjoined  with  our  identity  of  name,  and  the  mere 
accident  of  our  having  entered  the  school  upon  the 
same  day,  which  set  afloat  the  notion  that  we  were 
brothers,  among  the  senior  classes  of  the  academy. 
These  do  not  usually  inquire  with  much  strictness 
into  the  affairs  of  their  juniors.  I  have  before  said, 
or  should  have  said,  that  Wilson  was  not,  in  a  most 
remote  degree,  connected  with  my  family.  But  as 
suredly  if  we  HAD  been  brothers  we  must  have  been 
twins;  for,  after  leaving  Dr.  Bransby's,  I  casually 
learned  that  my  namesake  was  born  on  the  nineteenth 
of  January,  1813,  and  this  is  a  somewhat  remarkable 
coincidence  j  for  the  day  is  precisely  that  of  my  own 
nativity. 


245 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

It  may  seem  strange  that,  in  spite  of  the  continual 
anxiety  occasioned  me  by  the  rivalry  of  Wilson,  and 
tiis  intolerable  spirit  of  contradiction,  I  could  not  bring 
myself  to  hate  him  altogether.  We  had,  to  be  sure, 
nearly  every  day  a  quarrel  in  which,  yielding  me 
publicly  the  palm  of  victory,  he,  in  some  manner, 
contrived  to  make  me  feel  that  it  was  he  who  had 
deserved  it;  yet  a  sense  of  pride  on  my  part,  and  a 
veritable  dignity  on  his  own,  kept  us  always  upon 
what  are  called  "speaking  terms, "  while  there  were 
many  points  of  strong  congeniality  in  our  tempers, 
operating  to  awake  in  me  a  sentiment  which  our  posi 
tion  alone,  perhaps,  prevented  from  ripening  into 
friendship.  It  is  difficult,  indeed,  to  define,  or  even 
to  describe,  my  real  feelings  towards  him.  They 
formed  a  motley  and  heterogeneous  admixture :  some 
petulant  animosity,  which  was  not  yet  hatred,  some 
esteem,  more  respect,  much  fear,  with  a  world  of  un 
easy  curiosity.  To  the  moralist  it  will  be  necessary 
to  say,  in  addition,  that  Wilson  and  myself  were  the 
most  inseparable  of  companions. 

It  was  no  doubt  the  anomalous  state  of  affairs  ex 
isting  between  us  which  turned  all  my  attacks  upon 
him  (and  there  were  many,  either  open  or  covert) 
into  the  channel  of  banter  or  practical  joke  (giving 
pain  while  assuming  the  aspect  of  mere  fun)  rather 
than  into  a  more  serious  and  determined  hostility. 
But  my  endeavors  on  this  head  were  by  no  means 
uniformly  successful,  even  when  my  plans  were  the 
most  wittily  concocted;  for  my  namesake  had  much 
about  him,  in  character,  of  that  unassuming  and  quiet 

246 


WILLIAM    WILSON 

austerity  which,  while  enjoying  the  poignancy  of  its 
own  jokes,  has  no  heel  of  Achilles  in  itself,  and  abso 
lutely  refuses  to  be  laughed  at.  I  could  find,  indeed, 
but  one  vulnerable  point,  and  that,  lying  in  a  personal 
peculiarity,  arising,  perhaps,  from  constitutional 
disease,  would  have  been  spared  by  any  antagonist 
less  at  his  wit's  end  than  myself:  my  rival  had  a 
weakness  in  the  faucial  or  guttural  organs,  which 
precluded  him  from  raising  his  voice  at  any  time 
ABOVE  A  VERY  LOW  WHISPER.  Of  this  defect  I  did  not 
fail  to  take  what  poor  advantage  lay  in  my  power. 

Wilson's  retaliations  in  kind  were  many;  and  there 
was  one  form  of  his  practical  wit  that  disturbed  me 
beyond  measure.  How  his  sagacity  first  discovered  at 
all  that  so  petty  a  thing  would  vex  me,  is  a  question 
I  never  could  solve ;  but  having  discovered,  he  habitu 
ally  practised  the  annoyance.  I  had  always  felt 
aversion  to  my  uncourtly  patronymic,  and  its  very 
common,  if  not  plebian  praenomen.  The  words  were 
venom  in  my  ears ;  and  when,  upon  the  day  of  my 
arrival,  a  second  William  Wilson  came  also  to  the 
academy,  I  felt  angry  with  him  for  bearing  the  name, 
and  doubly  disgusted  with  the  name,  because  a 
stranger  bore  it,  who  would  be  the  cause  of  its  two 
fold  repetition,  who  would  be  constantly  in  my  pres 
ence,  and  whose  concerns,  in  the  ordinary  routine  of 
the  school  business,  must  inevitably,  on  account  of 
the  detestable  coincidence,  be  often  confounded  with 
my  own. 

The  feeling  of  vexation  thus  engendered  grew 
stronger  with  every  circumstance  tending  to  show 

247 


Jl 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 


resemblance,  moral  or  physical,  between  my  rival  and 
myself.  I  had  not  then  discovered  the  remarkable 
fact  that  we  were  of  the  same  age ;  but  I  saw  that  we 
were  of  the  same  height,  and  I  perceived  that  we  were 
even  singularly  alike  in  general  contour  of  person 
and  outline  of  feature.  I  was  galled,  too,  by  the  rumor 
touching  a  relationship  which  had  grown  current  in 
the  upper  forms.  In  a  word,  nothing  could  more 
seriously  disturb  me  (although  I  scrupulously  con 
cealed  such  disturbance)  than  any  allusion  to  a  simi 
larity  of  mind,  person,  or  condition  existing  between 
us.  But,  in  truth,  I  had  no  reason  to  believe  that 
(with  the  exception  of  the  matter  of  relationship,  and 
in  the  case  of  Wilson  himself)  this  similarity  had 
ever  been  made  a  subject  of  comment,  or  even  ob 
served  at  all  by  our  schoolfellows.  That  HE  observed 
it  in  all  its  bearings,  and  as  fixedly  as  I,  was  apparent ; 
but  that  he  could  discover  in  such  circumstances  so 
fruitful  a  field  of  annoyance  can  only  be  attributed, 
as  I  said  before,  to  his  more  than  ordinary  penetra^ 
tion. 

His  cue,  which  was  to  perfect  an  imitation  of  my 
self,  lay  both  in  words  and  in  actions;  and  most 
admirably  did  he  play  his  part.  My  dress  it  was  an 
easy  matter  to  copy;  my  gait  and  general  manner 
were,  without  difficulty,  appropriated;  in  spite  of  his 
constitutional  defect,  even  my  voice  did  not  escape 
him.  My  louder  tones  were,  of  course,  unattempted, 
but  then  the  key, —  it  was  identical ;  and  his  singular 
whisper, —  it  grew  the  very  echo  of  my  own. 


248 


WILLIAM    WILSON 

How  greatly  this  most  exquisite  portraiture 
harassed  me  (for  it  could  not  justly  be  termed  a 
caricature),  I  will  not  now  venture  to  describe.  I 
had  but  one  consolation :  in  the  fact  that  the  imita 
tion,  apparently,  was  noticed  by  myself  alone,  and 
that  I  had  to  endure  only  the  knowing  and  strangely 
sarcastic  smiles  of  my  namesake  himself.  Satisfied 
with  having  produced  in  my  bosom  the  intended 
effect,  he  seemed  to  chuckle  in  secret  over  the  sting 
he  had  inflicted,  and  was  characteristically  disregard- 
ful  of  the  public  applause  which  the  success  of  his 
witty  endeavors  might  have  so  easily  elicited.  That 
the  school,  indeed,  did  not  feel  his  design,  perceive 
its  accomplishment,  and  participate  in  his  sneer,  was, 
for  many  anxious  months,  a  riddle  I  could  not  resolve 
Perhaps  the  GRADATION  of  his  copy  rendered  it  not 
readily  perceptible;  or,  more  possibly,  I  owed  my 
security  to  the  masterly  air  of  the  copyist,  who, 
disdaining  the  letter  (which  in  a  painting  is  all  the 
obtuse  can  see),  gave  but  the  full  spirit  of  his  original 
for  my  individual  contemplation  and  chagrin. 

I  have  already  more  than  once  spoken  of  the  dis 
gusting  air  of  patronage  which  he  assumed  toward 
me,  and  of  his  frequent  officious  interference  with  my 
will.  This  interference  often  took  the  ungracious 
character  of  advice;  advice  not  openly  given,  but 
hinted  or  insinuated.  I  received  it  with  a  repugnance 
which  gained  strength  as  I  grew  in  years.  Yet,  at 
this  distant  day,  let  me  do  him  the  simple  justice  to 
acknowledge  that  I  can  recall  no  occasion  when  the 
suggestions  of  my  rival  were  on  the  side  of  those 

249 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

errors  or  follies  so  usual  to  his  immature  age  and 
seeming  inexperience;  that  his  moral  sense,  at  least, 
if  not  his  general  talents  and  worldly  wisdom,  was  far 
keener  than  my  own;  and  that  I  might  to-day  have 
been  a  better  and  thus  a  happier  man,  had  I  less  fre 
quently  rejected  the  counsels  embodied  in  those  mean 
ing  whispers  which  I  then  but  too  cordially  hated  and 
too  bitterly  despised. 

As  it  was,  I  at  length  grew  restive  in  the  extreme 
under  his  distasteful  supervision,  and  daily  resented 
more  and  more  openly  what  I  considered  his  intoler 
able  arrogance.  I  have  said  that,  in  the  first  years  of 
our  connection  as  schoolmates,  my  feelings  in  regard 
to  him  might  have  been  easily  ripened  into  friendship ; 
but,  in  the  latter  months  of  my  residence  at  the 
academy,  although  the  intrusion  of  his  ordinary 
manner  had,  beyond  doubt,  in  some  measure,  abated, 
my  sentiments,  in  nearly  similar  proportion,  partook 
very  much  of  positive  hatred.  Upon  one  occasion  he 
saw  this,  I  think,  and  afterward  avoided,  or  made  a 
show  of  avoiding,  me. 

It  was  about  the  same  period,  if  I  remember 
aright,  that,  in  an  altercation  of  violence  with  him, 
in  which  he  was  more  than  usually  thrown  off  his 
guard,  and  spoke  and  acted  with  an  openness  of 
demeanor  rather  foreign  to  his  nature,  I  discovered, 
or  fancied  I  discovered,  in  his  accent,  in  his  air,  and 
general  appearance,  a  something  which  first  startled 
and  then  deeply  interested  me,  by  bringing  to  mind 
dim  visions  of  my  earliest  infancy  —  wild,  confused, 
and  thronging  memories  of  a  time  when  memory  her- 

250 


WILLIAM    WILSON 

self  was  yet  unborn.  I  cannot  better  describe  the 
sensation  which  oppressed  me  than  by  saying  that  I 
could  with  difficulty  shake  off  the  belief  of  my  having 
been  acquainted  with  the  being  who  stood  before  me  at 
some  epoch  very  long  ago,  some  point  of  the  past 
even  infinitely  remote.  The  delusion,  however,  faded 
rapidly  as  it  came;  and  I  mention  it  at  all  but  to 
define  the  day  of  the  last  conversation  I  there  held 
with  my  singular  namesake. 

The  huge  old  house,  with  its  countless  subdi 
visions,  had  several  large  chambers  coimTQimicating 
with  each  other,  where  slept  the  greater  number  of 
the  students.  There  were,  however  (as  must  neces 
sarily  happen  in  a  building  so  awkwardly  planned), 
many  little  nooks  or  recesses,  the  odds  and  ends  of 
the  structure ;  and  these  the  economic  ingenuity  of  Dr. 
Bransby  had  also  fitted  up  as  dormitories;  although, 
being  the  merest  closets,  they  were  capable  of  accom 
modating  but  a  single  individual.  One  of  these  small 
apartments  was  occupied  by  Wilson. 

One  night,  about  the  close  of  my  fifth  year  at  the 
school,  and  immediately  after  the  altercation  just 
mentioned,  finding  every  one  wrapped  in  sleep,  I  arose 
from  bed,  and,  lamp  in  hand,  stole,  through  a  wilder 
ness  of  narrow  passages,  from  my  own  bedroom  to 
that  of  my  rival.  I  had  long  been  plotting  one  of 
those  ill-natured  pieces  of  practical  wit  at  his  ex 
pense  in  which  I  had  hitherto  been  so  uniformly  un 
successful.  It  was  my  intention,  now,  to  put  my 
scheme  in  operation  and  I  resolved  to  make  him  feel 
the  whole  extent  of  the  malice  with  which  I  was 

251 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

imbued.  Having  reached  his  closet,  I  noiselessly 
entered,  leaving  the  lamp,  with  a  shade  over  it,  on 
the  outside.  I  advanced  a  step  and  listened  to  the 
sound  of  his  tranquil  breathing.  Assured  of  his  be 
ing  asleep,  I  returned,  took  the  light,  and  with  it 
again  approached  the  bed.  Close  curtains  were 
around  it,  which,  in  the  prosecution  of  my  plan, 
I  slowly  and  quietly  withdrew,  when  the  bright  rays 
fell  vividly  upon  the  sleeper,  and  my  eyes  at  the  same 
moment  upon  his  countenance.  I  looked;  and  a 
numbness,  an  iciness  of  feeling,  instantly  pervaded 
my  frame.  My  breast  heaved,  my  knees  tottered,  my 
whole  spirit  became  possessed  with  an  objectless  yet 
intolerable  horror.  Gasping  for  breath,  I  lowered  the 
lamp  in  still  nearer  proximity  to  the  face.  Were  these, 
THESE  the  lineaments  of  William  Wilson?  I  saw,  in 
deed,  that  they  were  his,  but  I  shook  as  if  with  a  fit 
of  the  ague  in  fancying  they  were  not.  What  WAS 
there  about  them  to  confound  me  in  this  manner?  1 
gazed,  while  my  brain  reeled  with  a  multitude  of 
incoherent  thoughts.  Not  thus  he  appeared  —  as 
suredly  not  THUS  —  in  the  vivacity  of  his  waking 
hours.  The  same  name !  the  same  contour  of  person ! 
the  same  day  of  arrival  at  the  academy !  And  then  his 
clogged  and  meaningless  imitation  of  my  gait,  my 
voice,  my  habits,  and  my  manner!  Was  it,  in  truth, 
within  the  bounds  of  human  possibility,  THAT  WHAT  I 
NOW  SAW  was  the  result,  merely,  of  the  habitual  prac 
tice  of  this  sarcastic  imitation?  Awe-stricken,  and 
with  a  creeping  shudder,  I  extinguished  the  lamp, 
passed  silently  from  the  chamber,  and  left  at  once 

252 


WI  LLI  AM    WILSON 

the  halls  of  that  old  academy,  never  to  enter  them 
again. 

After  a  lapse  of  some  months,  spent  at  home  in 
mere  idleness,  I  found  myself  a  student  at  Eton.  The 
brief  interval  had  been  sufficient  to  enfeeble  my  re 
membrance  of  the  events  at  Dr.  Bransby's,  or  at  least 
to  effect  a  material  change  in  the  nature  of  the  feelings 
with  which  I  remembered  them.  The  truth,  the 
tragedy,  of  the  drama  was  no  more.  I  could  now 
find  room  to  doubt  the  evidence  of  my  senses;  and 
seldom  called  up  the  subject  at  all  but  with  wonder  at 
the  extent  of  human  credulity,  and  a  smile  at  the 
vivid  force  of  the  imagination  which  I  hereditarily 
possessed.  Neither  was  this  species  of  scepticism 
likely  to  be  diminished  by  the  character  of  the  life  I 
led  at  Eton.  The  vortex  of  thoughtless  folly  into 
which  I  there  so  immediately  and  so  recklessly 
plunged,  washed  away  all  but  the  froth  of  my  past 
hours,  engulfed  at  once  every  solid  or  serious  im 
pression,  and  left  to  memory  only  the  veriest  levities 
of  a  former  existence. 

I  do  not  wish,  however,  to  trace  the  course  of  my 
miserable  profligacy  here  —  a  profligacy  which  set  at 
defiance  the  laws,  while  it  eluded  the  vigilance,  of  the 
institution.  Three  years  of  folly,  passed  without  profit, 
had  but  given  me  rooted  habits  of  vice,  and  added, 
in  a  somewhat  unusual  degree,  to  my  bodily  stature, 
when,  after  a  week  of  soulless  dissipation,  I  invited  a 
small  party  of  the  most  dissolute  students  to  a  secret 
carousal  in  my  chambers.  We  met  at  a  late  hour  of 
the  night;  for  our  debaucheries  were  to  be  faithfully 

253 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

protracted  until  morning.  The  wine  flowed  freely, 
and  there  were  not  wanting  other  and  perhaps  more 
dangerous  seductions;  so  that  the  gray  dawn  had 
already  faintly  appeared  in  the  east  while  our  delir 
ious  extravagance  was  at  its  height.  Madly  flushed 
with  cards  and  intoxication,  I  was  in  the  act  of  insist 
ing  upon  a  toast  of  more  than  wonted  profanity,  when 
my  attention  was  suddenly  diverted  by  the  violent,  al 
though  partial,  unclosing  of  the  door  of  the  apart 
ment,  and  by  the  eager  voice  of  a  servant  from  with 
out.  He  said  that  some  person,  apparently  in  great 
haste,  demanded  to  speak  with  me  in  the  hall. 

Wildly  excited  with  wine,  the  unexpected  interrup 
tion  rather  delighted  than  surprised  me.  I  staggered 
forward  at  once,  and  a  few  steps  brought  me  to  the 
vestibule  of  the  building.  In  this  low  and  small  room 
there  hung  no  lamp ;  and  now  no  light  at  all  was 
admitted,  save  that  of  the  exceedingly  feeble  dawn 
whjch  made  its  way  through  the  semi-circular  window. 
As  I  put  my  foot  over  the  threshold,  I  became  aware 
of  the  figure  of  a  youth  about  my  own  height,  and 
habited  in  a  white  kerseymere  morning  frock,  cut  in 

Sthe  novel  fashion  of  the  one  I  myself  wore  at  the 
moment.  This  the  faint  light  enabled  me  to  perceive ; 
but  the  features  of  his  face  I  could  not  distinguish. 
Upon  my  entering,  he  strode  hurriedly  up  to  me  and, 
seizing  me  by  the  arm  with  a  gesture  of  petulant 
impatience,  whispered  the  words  "William  Wilson" 
in  my  ear. 

I  grew  perfectly  sober  in  an  instant. 

There  was  that  in  the  manner  of  the  stranger,  and 

254 


.0 


WI  LLI  AM    WILSON 

in  the  tremulous  shake  of  his  uplifted  finger,  as  he 
held  it  between  my  eyes  and  the  light,  which  filled  me 
with  unqualified  amazement;  but  it  was  not  this 
which  had  so  violently  moved  me.  It  was  the  preg 
nancy  of  solemn  admonition  in  the  singular,  low,  hiss 
ing  utterance;  and,  above  all,  it  was  the  character, 
the  tone,  the  key,  of  those  few,  simple,  and  familiar, 
yet  whispered  syllables,  which  came  with  a  thousand 
thronging  memories  of  by-gone  days,  and  struck  upon 
my  soul  with  the  shock  of  a  galvanic  battery.  Ere  I 
could  recover  the  use  of  my  senses,  he  was  gone. 

Although  this  event  failed  not  of  a  vivid  effect 
upon  my  disordered  imagination,  yet  was  it  evanescent 
as  vivid.  For  some  weeks,  indeed,  I  busied  myself  in 
earnest  enquiry,  or  was  wrapped  in  a  cloud  of  morbid 
speculation.  I  did  not  pretend  to  disguise  from  my 
perception  the  identity  of  the  singular  individual  who 
thus  perseveringly  interfered  with  my  affairs,  and 
harassed  me  with  his  insinuated  counsel.  But  who 
and  what  was  this  Wilson?  and  whence  came  he? 
and  what  were  his  purposes?  Upon  neither  of  these 
points  could  I  be  satisfied,  merely  ascertaining,  in 
regard  to  him,  that  a  sudden  accident  in  his  family 
had  caused  his  removal  from  Dr.  Bransby's  academy 
on  the  afternoon  of  the  day  in  which  I  myself  had 
eloped.  But  in  a  brief  period  I  ceased  to  think  upon 
the  subject,  my  attention  being  all  absorbed  in  a  con 
templated  departure  for  Oxford.  Thither  I  soon  went, 
the  uncalculating  vanity  of  my  parents  furnishing  me 
with  an  outfit  and  annual  establishment  which  would 
enable  me  to  indulge  at  will  in  the  luxury  already  so 

255 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

dear  to  my  heart, —  to  vie  in  profuseness  of  expendi 
ture  with  the  haughtiest  heirs  of  the  wealthiest 
earldoms  in  Great  Britain. 

Excited  by  such  appliances  to  vice,  my  constitu 
tional  temperament  broke  forth  with  redoubled  ardor, 
and  I  spurned  even  the  common  restraints  of  decency 
in  the  mad  infatuation  of  my  revels.  But  it  were 
absurd  to  pause  in  the  detail  of  my  extravagance. 
Let  it  suffice,  that  among  spendthrifts  I  out-Heroded 
Herod,  and  that,  giving  name  to  a  multitude  of  novel 
follies,  I  added  no  brief  appendix  to  the  long  cata 
logue  of  vices  then  usual  in  the  most  dissolute  uni 
versity  of  Europe. 

It  could  hardly  be  credited,  however,  that  I  had, 
even  here,  so  utterly  fallen  from  the  gentlemanly 
estate  as  to  seek  acquaintance  with  the  vilest  arts  of 
the  gambler  by  profession,  and,  having  become  an 
adept  in  his  despicable  science,  to  practice  it  habitu 
ally  as  a  means  of  increasing  my  already  enormous  in 
come  at  the  expense  of  the  weak-minded  among  my 
fellow-collegians.  Such,  nevertheless,  was  the  fact. 
And  the  very  enormity  of  this  offence  against  all 
manly  and  honorable  sentiment  proved,  beyond  doubt, 
the  main  if  not  the  sole  reason  of  the  impunity  with 
which  it  was  committed.  Who,  indeed,  among  my 
most  abandoned  associates,  would  not  rather  have 
disputed  the  clearest  evidence  of  his  senses  than  have 
suspected  of  such  courses  the  gay,  the  frank,  the 
generous  William  Wilson,  the  noblest  and  most  liberal 
commoner  at  Oxford  —  him  whose  follies  (said  his 
parasites)  were  but  the  follies  of  youth  and  unbridled 


WILLIAM   WILSON 

fancy,  whose  errors  but  inimitable  whim,  whose 
darkest  vice  but  a  careless  and  dashing  extravagance  ? 

I  had  been  now  two  years  successfully  busied  in 
this  way,  when  there  came  to  the  university  a  young 
parvenu  nobleman,  Glendinning,  rich,  said  report,  as 
Herodes  Atticus;  his  riches,  too,  as  easily  acquired. 
I  soon  found  him  of  weak  intellect,  and,  of  course, 
marked  him  as  a  fitting  subject  for  my  skill.  I  fre 
quently  engaged  him  in  play,  and  contrived,  with  the 
gambler's  usual  art,  to  let  him  win  considerable  sums, 
the  more  effectually  to  entangle  him  in  my  snares. 
At  length,  my  schemes  being  ripe,  I  met  him  (with 
the  full  intention  that  this  meeting  should  be  final 
and  decisive)  at  the  chambers  of  a  fellow-commoner 
(Mr.  Preston),  equally  intimate  with  both,  but  who, 
to  do  him  justice,  entertained  not  even  a  remote  sus 
picion  of  my  design.  To  give  to  this  a  better  coloring, 
I  had  contrived  to  have  assembled  a  party  of  some 
eight  or  ten,  and  was  solicitously  careful  that  the 
introduction  of  cards  should  appear  accidental, 
and  originate  in  the  proposal  of  my  contemplated 
dupe  himself.  To  be  brief  upon  a  vile  topic,  none 
of  the  low  finesse  was  omitted,  so  customary  upon 
similar  occasions  that  it  is  a  just  matter  for  won 
der  how  any  are  still  found  so  besotted  as  to  fall  its 
victim. 

We  had  protracted  our  sitting  far  into  the  night, 
and  I  had  "at  length  effected  the  manoeuvre  of  getting 
Glendinning  as  my  sole  antagonist.  The  game,  too, 
was  my  favorite  ecarte.  The  rest  of  the  company, 
interested  in  the  extent  of  our  play,  had  abandoned 

1—17  257 


EDGAR    ALLAN     POE 

their  own  cards  and  were  standing  around  us  as 
spectators.  The  parvenu,  who  had  been  induced  by 
my  artifices  in  the  early  part  of  the  evening  to  drink 
deeply,  now  shuffled,  dealt,  or  played  with  a  wild 
nervousness  of  manner  for  which  his  intoxication,  I 
thought,  might  partially,  but  could  not  altogether, 
account.  In  a  very  short  period  he  had  become  my 
debtor  to  a  large  amount,  when,  having  taken  a  long 
draught  of  port,  he  did  precisely  what  I  had  been 
cooly  anticipating :  he  proposed  to  double  our  already 
extravagant  stakes.  With  a  well-feigned  show  of  re 
luctance,  and  not  until  after  my  repeated  refusal  had 
seduced  him  into  some  angry  words  which  gave  a  color 
of  pique  to  my  compliance,  did  I  finally  comply.  The 
result,  of  course,  did  but  prove  how  entirely  the  prey 
was  in  my  toils:  in  less  than  an  hour  he  had  quad 
rupled  his  debt.  For  some  time  his  countenance  had 
been  losing  the  florid  tinge  lent  it  by  the  wine;  but 
now,  to  my  astonishment,  I  perceived  that  it  had 
grown  to  a  pallor  truly  fearful.  I  say,  to  my  astonish 
ment.  Glendinning  has  been  represented  to  my  eager 
inquiries  as  immeasurably  wealthy;  and  the  sums 
which  he  had  as  yet  lost,  although  in  themselves  vast, 
could  not,  I  supposed,  very  seriously  annoy,  much  less 
so  violently  affect  him.  That  he  was  overcome  by 
the  wine  just  swallowed,  was  the  idea  which  most 
readily  presented  itself;  and,  rather  with  a  view  to 
the  preservation  of  my  own  character  in  the  eyes  of 
my  associates  than  from  any  less  interested  motive, 
I  was  about  to  insist,  peremptorily,  upon  a  discon 
tinuance  of  the  play  when  some  expressions  at  my 

258 


WILLIAM   WILSON 

elbow  from  among  the  company,  and  an  ejaculation 
evincing  utter  despair  on  the  part  of  Glendinning, 
gave  me  to  understand  that  I  had  effected  his  total 
ruin  under  circumstances  which,  rendering  him  an 
object  for  the  pity  of  all,  should  have  protected  him 
from  the  ill  offices  even  of  a  fiend. 

What  now  might  have  been  my  conduct  it  is  dif 
ficult  to  say.  The  pitiable  condition  of  my  dupe  had 
thrown  an  air  of  embarrassed  gloom  over  all;  and, 
for  some  moments  a  profound  silence  was  maintained, 
during  which  I  could  not  help  feeling  my  cheeks 
tingle  with  the  many  burning  glances  of  scorn  or 
reproach  cast  upon  me  by  the  less  abandoned  of  the 
party.  I  will  even  own  that  an  intolerable  weight 
of  anxiety  was  for  a  brief  instant  lifted  from  my 
bosom  by  the  sudden  and  extraordinary  interruption 
which  ensued.  The  wide,  heavy  folding  doors  of  the 
apartment  were  all  at  once  thrown  open,  to  their  full 
extent,  with  a  vigorous  and  rushing  impetuosity 
that  extinguished,  as  if  by  magic,  every  candle  in  the 
room.  Their  light,  in  dying,  enabled  us  to  just  per 
ceive  that  a  stranger  had  entered,  about  my  own 
height,  and  closely  muffled  in  a  cloak.  The  darkness, 
however,  was  not  total ;  and  we  could  only  FEEL  that 
he  was  standing  in  our  midst.  Before  any  one  of  us 
could  recover  from  the  extreme  astonishment  into 
which  this  rudeness  had  thrown  all,  we  heard  the 
voice  of  the  intruder. 

"Gentleman,"  he  said,  in  a  low,  distinct,  and 
never-to-be-forgotten  WHISPER,  which  thrilled  to  the 
very  marrow  of  my  bones;  " Gentlemen,  I  make  no 

259 


1 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

apology  for  this  behavior,  because  in  thus  behaving 
I  am  fulfilling  a  duty.  You  are,  beyond  a  doubt, 
uninformed  of  the  true  character  of  the  person  who 
has  to-night  won  at  ecarte  a  large  sum  of  money  from 
Lord  Glendinning.  I  will  therefore  put  you  upon  an 
expeditious  and  decisive  plan  of  obtaining  this  very 
necessary  information.  Please  to  examine,  at  your 
leisure,  the  inner  linings  of  the  cuff  of  his  left  sleeve 
and  the  several  little  packages  which  may  be  found  in 
the  somewhat  capacious  pockets  of  his  embroidered 
morning  wrapper/* 

While  he  spoke,  so  profound  was  the  stillness  that 
one  might  have  heard  a  pin  drop  on  the  floor.  In 
ceasing,  he  departed  at  once,  and  as  abruptly  as  he 
had  entered.  Can  I — shall  I  describe  my  sensa 
tions?  Must  I  say  that  I  felt  all  the  horrors  of  the 
damned?  Most  assuredly,  I  had  little  time  for  reflec 
tion.  Many  hands  roughly  seized  me  upon  the  spot, 
and  lights  were  immediately  procured.  A  search  en 
sued.  In  the  lining  of  my  sleeve  were  found  all  the 
court  cards  essential  in  ecarte,  and  in  the  pockets  of 
my  wrapper  a  number  of  packs,  fac-similes  of  those 
used  at  our  sittings,  with  the  single  exception  that 
mine  were  of  the  species  called,  technically,  arrondis, 
the  honors  being  slightly  convex  at  the  ends,  the  lower 
cards  slightly  convex  at  the  sides.  In  this  disposition, 
the  dupe  who  cuts,  as  customary,  at  the  length  of  the 
pack,  will  invariably  find  that  he  cuts  his  antagonist 
an  honor;  while  the  gambler,  cutting  at  the  breadth, 
will,  as  certainly,  cut  nothing  for  his  victim  which 
may  count  in  the  records  of  the  game. 

260 


WILLIAM   WILSON 

Any  burst  of  indignation  -upon  this  discovery 
would  have  affected  me  less  than  the  silent  contempt 
or  the  sarcastic  composure  with  which  it  was  received. 

"Mr.  Wilson/ '  said  our  host,  stooping  to  remove 
from  beneath  his  feet  an  exceedingly  luxurious  cloak 
of  rare  furs,  "Mr.  Wilson,  this  is  your  property." 
(The  weather  was  cold;  and,  upon  quitting  my  own 
room,  I  had  thrown  a  cloak  over  my  dressing  wrapper, 
putting  it  off  upon  reaching  the  scene  of  play.)  "I 
presume  it  is  supererogatory  to  seek  here  (eyeing  the 
folds  of  the  garment  with  a  bitter  smile)  for  any 
further  evidence  of  your  skill.  Indeed,  we  have  had 
enough.  You  will  see  the  necessity,  I  hope,  of  quit 
ting  Oxford  —  at  all  events,  of  quitting  instantly  my 
chambers." 

Abased,  humbled  to  the  dust  as  I  then  was,  it  is 
probable  that  I  should  have  resented  this  galling  lan 
guage  by  immediate  personal  violence,  had  not  my 
whole  attention  been  at  the  moment  arrested  by  a 
fact  of  the  most  startling  character.  The  cloak  which 
I  had  worn  was  of  a  rare  description  of  fur ;  how  rare, 
how  extravagantly  costly,  I  shall  not  venture  to  say. 
Its  fashion,  too,  was  of  my  own  fantastic  invention; 
for  I  was  fastidious  to  an  absurd  degree  of  coxcombry, 
in  matters  of  this  frivolous  nature.  When,  therefore, 
Mr.  Preston  reached  me  that  which  he  had  picked  up 
upon  the  floor,  and  near  the  folding  doors  of  the  apart 
ment,  it  was  with  an  astonishment  nearly  bordering 
upon  terror  that  I  perceived  my  own  already  hanging 
on  my  arm  (where  I  had  no  doubt  unwittingly  placed 


261 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

it),  and  that  the  one  presented  me  was  but  its  exact 
counterpart  in  every,  in  even  the  minutest  possible 
particular.  The  singular  being  who  had  so  disas 
trously  exposed  me  had  been  muffled,  I  remembered, 
in  a  cloak;  and  none  had  been  worn  at  all  by  any  of 
the  members  of  our  party,  with  the  exception  of 
myself.  Eetaining  some  presence  of  mind,  I  took  the 
one  offered  me  by  Preston ;  placed  it,  unnoticed,  over 
my  own;  left  the  apartment  with  a  resolute  scowl 
of  defiance;  and,  next  morning  ere  dawn  of  day 
commenced  a  hurried  journey  from  Oxford  to  the 
continent,  in  a  perfect  agony  of  horror  and  of  shame. 

I  fled  in  vain.  My  evil  destiny  pursued  me  as  if  in 
exultation,  and  proved,  indeed,  that  the  exercise  of  its 
mysterious  dominion  had  as  yet  only  begun.  Scarcely 
had  I  set  foot  in  Paris,  ere  I  had  fresh  evidence  of  the 
destestable  interest  taken  by  this  Wilson  in  my  con 
cerns.  Years  flew,  while  I  experienced  no  relief. 
Villain!  At  Rome,  with  how  untimely,  yet  with  how 
spectral  an  officiousness,  stepped  he  in  between  me 
and  my  ambition!  at  Vienna,  too,  at  Berlin,  and  at 
Moscow!  Where,  in  truth,  had  I  NOT  bitter  cause  to 
curse  him  within  my  heart?  From  his  inscrutable 
tyranny  did  I  at  length  flee,  panic-stricken,  as  from  a 
pestilence ;  and  to  the  very  ends  of  the  earth  I  fled  in 
vain. 

And  again,  and  again,  in  secret  communion  with 
my  own  spirit,  would  I  demand  the  questions :  * '  Who 
is  he?  whence  came  he?  and  what  are  his  objects?  " 
But  no  answer  was  there  found.  And  now  I  scruti- 


262 


WILLIAM   WILSON 

nized,  with  a  minute  scrutiny,  the  forms  and  the 
methods  and  the  leading  traits  of  his  impertinent 
supervision.  But  even  here  there  was  very  little  upon 
which  to  base  a  conjecture.  It  was  noticeable,  indeed, 
that  in  no  one  of  the  multiplied  instances  in  which 
he  had  of  late  crossed  my  path  had  he  so  crossed  it 
except  to  frustrate  those  schemes,  or  to  disturb  those 
actions,  which,  if  fully  carried  out,  might  have  re 
sulted  in  bitter  mischief.  Poor  justification  this,  in 
truth,  for  an  authority  so  imperiously  assumed !  Poor 
indemnity  for  natural  rights  of  self -agency  so  pertina 
ciously,  so  insultingly  denied ! 

I  had  also  been  forced  to  notice  that  my  tormentor, 
for  a  very  long  period  of  time  (while  scrupulously  and 
with  miraculous  dexterity  maintaining  his  whim  of 
an  identity  of  apparel  with  myself),  had  so  contrived 
it,  in  the  execution  of  his  varied  interference  with  my 
will,  that  I  saw  not,  at  any  moment,  the  features  of 
his  face.  Be  Wilson  what  he  might,  this,  at  least,  was 
but  the  veriest  of  affectation  or  of  folly.  Could  he,  for 
an  instant,  have  supposed  that,  in  my  admonisher  at 
Eton,  in  the  destroyer  of  my  honor  at  Oxford,  in 
him  who  thwarted  my  ambition  at  Rome,  my  revenge 
at  Paris,  my  passionate  love  at  Naples,  or  what  he 
falsely  termed  my  avarice  in  Egypt, —  that  in  this, 
my  arch-enemy  and  evil  genius,  I  could  fail  to  recog 
nize  the  William  Wilson  of  my  school-boy  days:  the 
namesake,  the  companion,  the  rival,  the  hated  and 
dreaded  rival  at  Dr.  Bransby's?  Impossible!  But 
let  me  hasten  to  the  last  eventful  scene  of  the  drama. 


263 


EDGAR    ALLAN     POE 

Thus  far  I  had  succumbed  supinely  to  this  imper 
ious  domination.  The  sentiment  of  deep  awe  with 
which  I  habitually  regarded  the  elevated  character, 
the  majestic  wisdom,  the  apparent  omnipresence  and 
omnipotence  of  Wilson,  added  to  a  feeling  of  even 
terror,  with  which  certain  other  traits  in  his  nature 
and  assumptions  inspired  me,  had  operated,  hitherto, 
to  impress  me  with  an  idea  of  my  own  utter  weakness 
and  helplessness,  and  to  suggest  an  implicit,  although 
bitterly  reluctant,  submission  to  his  arbitrary  will. 
But,  of  late  days,  I  had  given  myself  up  entirely  to 
wine ;  and  its  maddening  influence  upon  my  hereditary 
temper  rendered  me  more  and  more  impatient  of  con 
trol.  I  began  to  murmur,  to  hesitate,  to  resist.  And 
was  it  only  fancy  which  induced  me  to  believe  that, 
with  the  increase  of  my  own  firmness,  that  of  my 
tormentor  underwent  a  proportional  diminution?  Be 
this  as  it  may,  I  now  began  to  feel  the  inspiration 
of  a  burning  hope,  and  at  length  nurtured  in  my 
secret  thoughts  a  stern  and  desperate  resolution  that 
I  would  submit  no  longer  to  be  enslaved. 

It  was  at  Rome,  during  the  Carnival  of  18 — , 
that  I  attended  a  masquerade  in  the  palazzo  of  the 
Neapolitan  Duke  Di  Broglio.  I  had  indulged  more 
freely  than  usual  in  the  excesses  of  the  wine-table; 
and  now  the  suffocating  atmosphere  of  the  crowded 
rooms  irritated  me  beyond  endurance.  The  difficulty, 
too,  of  forcing  my  way  through  the  mazes  of  the 
company  contributed  not  a  little  to  the  ruffling  of  my 
temper;  for  I  was  anxiously  seeking  (let  me  not  say 


264 


WILLIAM    WILSON 

with  what  unworthy  motive)  the  young,  the  gay,  the 
beautiful  wife  of  the  aged  and  doting  Di  Broglio. 
With  a  too  unscrupulous  confidence,  she  had  pre 
viously  communicated  to  me  the  secret  of  the  costume 
in  which  she  would  be  habited,  and  now,  having  caught 
a  glimpse  of  her  person,  I  was  hurrying  to  make  my 
way  into  her  presence.  At  this  moment  I  felt  a  light 
hand  placed  upon  my  shoulder,  and  that  ever-remem 
bered,  low,  damnable  WHISPER  within  my  ear. 

In  an  absolute  frenzy,  of  wrath,  I  turned  at  once 
upon  him  who  had  thus  interrupted  me,  and  seized 
him  violently  by  the  collar.  He  was  attired,  as  I  had 
expected,  in  a  costume  altogether  similar  to  my  own ; 
wearing  a  Spanish  cloak  of  blue  velvet,  begirt  about 
the  waist  with  a  crimson  belt  sustaining  a  rapier.  A 
mask  of  black  silk  entirely  covered  his  face. 

"  Scoundrel !' '  I  said,  in  a  voice  husky  with  rage, 
while  every  syllable  I  uttered  seemed  as  new  fuel  to 
my  fury;  "scoundrel!  impostor!  accursed  villain! 
you  shall  not,  you  SHALL  NOT  dog  me  unto  death! 
Follow  me,  or  I  stab  you  where  you  stand ! ' ' —  and  I 
broke  my  way  from  the  ball-room  into  a  small  ante 
chamber  adjoining,  dragging  him  unresistingly  with 
me  as  I  went. 

Upon  entering,  I  thrust  him  furiously  from  me. 
He  staggered  against  the  wall,  while  I  closed  the  door 
with  an  oath,  and  commanded  him  to  draw.  He 
hesitated  but  for  an  instant;  then,  with  a  slight  sigh, 
drew  in  silence,  and  put  himself  upon  his  defence. 

The  contest  was  brief  indeed.    I  was  frantic  with 


265 


EDGAR    ALLAN     POE 

every  species  of  wild  excitement,  and  felt  within  my 
single  arm  the  energy  and  power  of  a  multitude.  In 
a  few  seconds  I  forced  him  with  sheer  strength  against 
the  wainscoting,  and  thus,  getting  him  at  mercy, 
plunged  my  sword  with  brute  ferocity  repeatedly 
through  and  through  his  bosom. 

At  that  instant  some  person  tried  the  latch  of  the 
door.  I  hastened  to  prevent  an  intrusion,  and  then 
immediately  returned  to  my  dying  antagonist.  But 
what  human  language  can  adequately  portray  THAT 
astonishment,  THAT  horror,  which  possessed  me  at  the 
spectacle  then  presented  to  view?  The  brief  moment 
in  which  I  averted  my  eyes  had  been  sufficient  to 
produce,  apparently,  a  material  change  in  the  ar 
rangements  at  the  upper  or  farther  end  of  the  room. 
A  large  mirror  —  so  at  first  it  seemed  to  me  in  my 
confusion  —  now  stood  where  none  had  been  percepti 
ble  before;  and  as  I  stepped  up  to  it  in  extremity  of 
terror,  mine  own  image,  but  with  features  all  pale  and 
dabbled  with  blood,  advanced  to  meet  me  with  a  feeble 
and  tottering  gait. 

Thus  it  appeared,  I  say,  but  was  not.  It  was  my 
antagonist,  it  was  Wilson,  who  then  stood  before  me 
in  the  agonies  of  his  dissolution.  His  masks  and  cloak 
lay,  where  he  had  thrown  them,  upon  the  floor.  Not 
a  thread  in  all  his  raiment,  not  a  line  in  all  the 
marked  and  singular  lineaments  of  his  face  which 
was  not,  even  in  the  most  absolute  indentity,  MINE 
OWN! 

It  was  Wilson ;  but  he  spoke  n'o  longer  in  a  whisper, 


266 


WILLIAM    WILSON 

and  I  could  have  fancied  that  I  myself  was  speaking 
while  he  said : 

"You  have  conquered,  and  I  yield.  Yet  hence 
forward  art  thou  also  dead  —  dead  to  the  World,  to 
Heaven,  and  to  hope!  In  me  didst  thou  exist,  and, 
in  my  death,  see  by  this  image,  which  is  thine  own, 
how  utterly  thou  hast  murdered  thyself." 


267 


A  TALE   OF  JERUSALEM 

Intonsos  rigidam  in  frontem  descendere  canos 
Passus  erat. 

LUCAN  —  De  Catone. 

a  bristly  bore. 

Translation. 


L 


us  hurry  to  the  walls,"  said  Abel- 
Phittim  to  Buzi-Ben-Levi  and  Simeon 
the  Pharisee,  on  the  tenth  day  of  the 
month  Thammuz,  in  the  year  of  the 
world  three  thousand  nine  hundred  and 
forty-one;  "let  us  hasten  to  the  ramparts  adjoining 
the  gate  of  Benjamin,  which  is  in  the  city  of  David, 
and  overlooking  the  camp  of  the  uncircumcised ;  for 
it  is  the  last  hour  of  the  fourth  watch,  being  sun 
rise  ;  and  the  idolaters,  in  fulfilment  of  the  promise  of 
Pompey,  should  be  awaiting^  us  with  the  lambs  for  the 
sacrifices." 

Simeon,  Abel-Phittim,  and  Buzi-Ben-Levi  were  the 
Gizbarim,  or  sub-collectors  of  the  offering  in  the  holy 
city  of  Jerusalem. 

"Verily,"  replied  the  Pharisee,  "let  us  hasten:  for 
this  generosity  in  the  heathen  is  unwonted,  and 
fickle-mindedness  has  ever  been  an  attribute  of  the 
worshippers  of  Baal." 

'  *  That  they  are  fickle-minded  and  treacherous  is  as 
true  as  the  Pentateuch,"  said  Buzi-Ben-Levi,  "but 

268 


l,    I 


A    TALE    OF    JERUSALEM 

that  is  only  toward  the  people  of  Adonai.  When  was 
it  ever  known  that  the  Ammonites  proved  wanting  to 
their  own  interests?  Methinks  it  is  no  great  stretch 
of  generosity  to  allow  us  lambs  for  the  altar  of  the 
Lord,  receiving  in  lieu  thereof  thirty  silver  shekels 
per  head!" 

''Thou  forgettest,  however,  Ben-Levi,"  replied 
Abel-Phittim,  "that  the  Roman  Pompey,  who  is  now 
impiously  besieging  the  city  of  the  Most  High,  has  no 
assurity  that  we  apply  not  the  lambs  thus  purchased 
for  the  altar  to  the  sustenance  of  the  body  rather  than 
of  the  spirit." 

"Now,  by  the  five  corners  of  my  beard!"  shouted 
the  Pharisee,  who  belonged  to  the  sect  called  "The 
Dashers"  (that  little  knot  of  saints  whose  manner  of 
DASHING  and  lacerating  the  feet  against  the  pavement 
was  long  a  thorn  and  a  reproach  to  less  zealous  devo 
tees,  a  stumbling-block  to  less  gifted  perambulators), 
—"by  the  five  corners  of  that  beard  which,  as  a 
priest,  I  am  forbidden  te  shave ! — have  we  lived  to 
see  the  day  when  a  blaspheming  and  idolatrous  up 
start  of  Rome  shall  accuse  us  of  appropriating  to  the 
appetites  of  the  flesh  the  most  holy  and  consecrated 
elements?  Have  we  lived  to  see  the  day  when " 

"Let  us  not  question  the  motives  of  the  Philistine," 
interrupted  Abel-Phittim, ' '  for  to-day  we  profit  for  the 
first  time  by  his  avarice  or  by  his  generosity;  but 
rather  let  us  hurry  to  the  ramparts,  lest  offerings 
should  be  wanting  for  that  altar  whose  fire  the  rains 
of  heaven  cannot  extinguish  and  whose  pillars  of 
smoke  no  tempest  can  turn  aside." 


209 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

That  part  of  the  city  to  which  our  worthy  Gizbarim 
now  hastened,  and  which  bore  the  name  of  its  archi 
tect,  King  David,  was  esteemed  the  most  strongly 
fortified  district  of  Jerusalem,  being  situated  upon 
the  steep  and  lofty  hill  of  Zion.  Here,  a  broad,  deep, 
circumvallatory  trench,  hewn  from  the  solid  rock,  was 
defended  by  a  wall  of  great  strength  erected  upon 
its  inner  edge.  This  wall  was  adorned  at  regular  in 
terspaces  by  square  towers  of  white  marble ;  the  lowest 
sixty,  and  the  highest  one  hundred  and  twenty  cubits 
in  height.  But,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  gate  of 
Benjamin,  the  wall  arose  by  no  means  from  the  margin 
of  the  fosse.  On  the  contrary,  between  the  level  of 
the  ditch  and  the  basement  of  the  rampart  sprang  up 
a  perpendicular  cliff  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  cubits, 
forming  part  of  the  precipitous  Mount  Moriah.  So 
that  when  Simeon  and  his  associates  arrived  on  the 
summit  of  the  tower  called  Adoni-Bezek,  the  loftiest 
of  all  the  turrets  around  about  Jerusalem,  and  the 
usual  place  of  conference  with  the  besieging  army, 
they  looked  down  upon  the  camp  of  the  enemy  from 
an  eminence  excelling  by  many  feet  that  of  the  Pyra 
mid  of  Cheops,  and  by  several,  that  of  the  temple  of 
Belus. 

"Verily,"  sighed  the  Pharisee,  as  he  peered  dizzily 
over  the  precipice,  "the  uncircumcised  are  as  the 
sands  by  the  seashore,  as  the  locusts  in  the  wilder 
ness  !  The  valley  of  the  King  hath  become  the  valley 
of  Adommin." 

"And   yet,"    added   Ben-Levi,    "thou   canst   not 


270 


A    TALE     OF    JERUSALEM 

point  me  out  a  Philistine  —  no,  not  one  —  from  Aleph 
to  Tau,  from  the  wilderness  to  the  battlements,  who 
seemeth  any  bigger  than  the  letter  Jod!" 

"Lower  away  the  basket  with  the  shekels  of 
silver!"  here  shouted  a  Roman  soldier  in  a  hoarse, 
rough  voice  which  appeared  to  issue  from  the  regions 
of  Pluto;  "lower  away  the  basket  with  the  accursed 
coin  which  it  has  broken  the  jaw  of  a  noble  Roman  to 
pronounce!  Is  it  thus  you  evince  your  gratitude  to 
our  master  Pompeius,  who,  in  his  condescension,  has 
thought  fit  to  listen  to  your  idolatrous  importunities? 
The  god  Phoebus,  who  is  a  true  god,  has  been  charioted 
for  an  hour,  and  were  you  not  to  be  on  the  ramparts 
by  sunrise?  ^Edepol!  do  you  think  that  we,  the 
conquerors  of  the  world,  have  nothing  better  to  do 
than  stand  waiting  by  the  walls  of  every  kennel  to 
traffic  with  the  dogs  of  the  earth?  Lower  away,  I 
say,  and  see  that  your  trumpery  be  bright  in  color 
and  just  in  weight!" 

"El  Elohim!"  ejaculated  the  Pharisee,  as  the  dis 
cordant  tones  of  the  centurion'  rattled  up  the  crags  of 
the  precipice  and  fainted  away  against  the  temple, 
"El  Elohim!  WHO  is  the  god  Phoebus?  WHOM  doth 
the  blasphemer  invoke?  Thou,  Buzi-Ben-Levi,  who 
art  read  in  the  laws  of  the  Gentiles  and  hast  so 
journed  among  them  who  dabble  with  the  Teraphim, 
is  it  Nergal  of  whom  the  idolater  speaketh?  or 
Ashimah?  or  Nibhaz?  or  Tartak?  or  Adramalech?  or 
Anamalech?  or  Succoth-Benith ?  or  Dagon?  or  Belial? 
or  Baal-Perith?  or  Baal-Peor?  or  Baal-Zebub? 


271 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

"  Verily  it  is  neither  —  but  beware  how  thou 
lettest  the  rope  slip  too  rapidly  through  thy  fingers; 
for  should  the  wickerwork  chance  to  hang  on  the  pro 
jection  of  yonder  crag  there  will  be  a  woful  outpour 
ing  of  the  holy  things  of  the  sanctuary." 

By  the  assistance  of  some  rudely  constructed  ma 
chinery,  the  heavily  laden  basket  was  now  carefully 
lowered  down  among  the  multitude;  and  from  the 
giddy  pinnacle,  the  Romans  were  seen  gathering  con 
fusedly  round  it;  but,  owing  to  the  vast  height  and 
the  prevalence  of  a  fog  no  distinct  view  of  their 
operations  could  be  obtained. 

Half  an  hour  had  already  elapsed. 

"We  shall  be  too  late!"  sighed  the  Pharisee,  as 
at  the  expiration  of  this  period  he  looked  over  into 
the  abyss;  "we  shall  be  too  late!  we  shall  be  turned 
out  of  office  by  the  Katholim." 

"No  more,"  responded  Abel-Phittim,-— *  *  no  more 
shall  we  feast  upon  the  fat  of  the  land;  no  longer 
shall  our  beards  be  odorous  with  frankincense,  our 
loins  girded  up  with  fine  linen  from  the  Temple." 

"Raca!"  swore  Ben-Levi,  "Raca!  do  they  mean  to 
defraud  us  of  the  purchase  money?  or,  Holy  Moses! 
are  they  weighing  the  shekels  of  the  tabernacle?" 

"They  have  given  the  signal  at  last!"  cried  the 
Pharisee,  "they  have  given  the  signal  at  last!  Pull 
away,  Abel-Phittim !  and  thou,  Buzi-Ben-Levi,  pull 
away!  for  verily  the  Philistines  have  either  still  hold 
upon  the  basket  or  the  Lord  hath  softened  their  hearts 
to  place  therein  a  beast  of  good  weight!"  And  the 


272 


A    TALE    OF    JERUSALEM 

Gizbarim  pulled   away,   while   their  burthen   swung 

heavily  upward  through  the  still  increasing  mist. 

#  *  *  *  * 

"Booshoh  he!"-  — as,  at  the  conclusion  of  an  hour, 
some  object  at  the  extremity  of  the  rope  became  indis 
tinctly  visible;  "Booshoh  he!"  was  the  exclamation 
which  burst  from  the  lips  of  Ben-Levi. 

"Booshoh  he!  for  shame!  it  is  a  ram  from  the 
thickets  of  Engedi  and  as  rugged  as  the  valley  of 
Jehosaphat !" 

11  It  is  the  firstling  of  the  flock,"  said  Abel-Phittim ; 
' '  I  know  him  by  the  bleating  of  his  lips  and  the  inno 
cent  folding  of  his  limbs.  His  eyes  are  more  beautiful 
than  the  jewels  of  the  Pectoral,  and  his  flesh  is  like 
the  honey  of  Hebron." 

"It  is  a  fatted  calf  from  the  pastures  of  Bashan," 
said  the  Pharisee;  "the  heathen  have  dealt  wonder 
fully  with  us !  let  us  raise  up  our  voices  in  a  psalm ! 
let  us  give  thanks  on  the  shawm  and  on  the  psaltery, 
on  the  harp  and  on  the  huggab,  on  the  cythern  and 
on  the  sackbut ! ' ' 

It  was  not  until  the  basket  had  arrived  within  a 
few  feet  of  the  Gizbarim  that  a  low  grunt  betrayed  to 
their  perception  a  HOG  of  no  common  size. 

"Now  El  Emanu!"  slowly,  and  with  upturned 
eyes  ejaculated  the  trio,  as,  letting  go  their  hold, 
the  emancipated  porker  tumbled  headlong  among 
the  Philistines,  "El  Emanu!  God  be  with  us!  IT  is 

THE    UNUTTERABLE    FLESH!" 


I— 1 8  27? 


FOUR    BEASTS    IN    ONE 

THE  HOMO-CAMELOPARD. 

Chacun  a  ses   vertus. —  CR£BILLON?S   Xerxes. 


A 


NTIOCHUS  EPIPHANES  is  very  generally 
looked  upon  as  the  Gog  of  the  prophet 
Ezekiel.  This  honor  is,  however,  more 

I     properly  attributable  to  Cambyses,  the 

son  of  Cyrus.  And,  indeed,  the  char 
acter  of  the  Syrian  monarch  does  by  no  means  stand 
in  need  of  any  adventitious  embellishment.  His  ac 
cession  to  the  throne,  or  rather  his  usurpation  of  the 
sovereignty,  a  hundred  and  seventy-one  years  be 
fore  the  coming  of  Christ ;  his  attempt  to  plunder  the 
temple  of  Diana  at  Ephesus;  his  implacable  hostility 
to  the  Jews;  his  pollution  of  the  Holy  of  Holies; 
and  his  miserable  death  at  Tab  a  after  a  tumultuous 
reign  of  eleven  years,  are  circumstances  of  a  prom 
inent  kind,  and  therefore  more  generally  noticed  by 
the  historians  of  his  time  than  the  impious,  dastardly, 
cruel,  silly,  and  whimsical  achievements  which  make 

up  the  sum  total  of  his  private  life  and  reputation. 

***** 

Let  us  suppose,  gentle  reader,  that  it  is  now  the 
year  of  the  world  three  thousand  eight  hundred  and 
thirty,  and  let  us,  for  a  few  minutes,  imagine  ourselves 
at  that  most  grotesque  habitation  of  man,  the  remark- 

274 


FOUR    BEASTS    IN    ONE 

able  city  of  Antioch.  To  be  sure  there  were,  in  Syria 
and  other  countries  sixteen  cities  of  that  appellation 
besides  the  one  to  which  I  more  particularly  allude. 
But  ours  is  that  which  went  by  the  name  of  Antiochia 
Epidaphne,  from  its  vicinity  to  the  little  village  of 
Daphne,  where  stood  a  temple  to  that  divinity.  It 
was  built  (although  about  this  matter  there  is  some 
dispute)  by  Seleucus  Nicator,  the  first  king  of  the 
country  after  Alexander  the  Great,  in  memory  of  his 
father  Antiochus,  and  became  immediately  the  resi 
dence  of  the  Syrian  monarchy.  In  the  nourishing 
times  of  the  Roman  Empire  it  was  the  ordinary 
station  of  the  prefect  of  the  eastern  provinces;  and 
many  of  the  emperors  of  the  queen  city  (among 
whom  may  be  mentioned,  especially,  Verus  and 
Valens)  spent  here  the  greater  part  of  their  time.  But 
I  perceive  we  have  arrived  at  the  city  itself.  Let  us 
ascend  this  battlement  and  throw  our  eyes  upon  the 
town  and  neighboring  country. 

"What  broad  and  rapid  river  is  that  which  forces 
its  way,  with  innumerable  falls,  through  the  mountain 
ous  wilderness,  and  finally  through  the  wilderness  of 
buildings  ? '  ' 

That  is  the  Orontes,  and  it  is  the  only  water  in 
sight,  with  the  exception  of  the  Mediterranean,  which 
stretches  like  a  broad  mirror,  about  twelve  miles  off 
to  the  southward.  Every  one  has  seen  the  Mediter 
ranean;  but,  let  me  tell  you,  there  are  few  who  have 
had  a  peep  at  Antioch.  By  few,  I  mean  few  who,  like 
you  and  me,  have  had  at  the  same  time  the  advantages 
of  a  modern  education.  Therefore,  cease  to  regard 


275 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

that  sea  and  give  your  whole  attention  to  the  mass  of 
houses  that  lie  beneath  us.  You  will  remember  that 
it  is  now  the  year  of  the  world  three  thousand  eight 
hundred  and  thirty.  Were  it  later  (for  example,  were 
it  the  year  of  our  Lord  eighteen  hundred  and  forty- 
five),  we  should  be  deprived  of  this  extraordinary 
spectacle.  In  the  nineteenth  century  Antioch  is  — 
that  is  to  say,  Antioch  WILL  BE  —  in  a  lamentable 
state  of  decay.  It  will  have  been  by  that  time  totally 
destroyed,  at  three  different  periods,  by  three  suc 
cessive  earthquakes.  Indeed,  to  say  the  truth,  what 
little  of  its  former  self  may  then  remain  will  be 
found  in  so  desolate  and  ruinous  a  state  that  the 
Patriarch  shall  have  removed  his  residence  to  Damas 
cus.  This  is  well.  I  see  you  profit  by  my  advice, 
and  are  making  the  most  of  your  time  in  inspect 
ing  the  premises  —  in 

satisfying  your  eyes 

With  the  memorials  and  the  things  of  fame 
That  do  renown  this  city. 

I  beg  pardon;  I  had  forgotten  that  Shakespeare 
will  not  flourish  for  seventeen  hundred  and  fifty  years 
to  come.  But  does  not  the  appearance  of  Epidaphne 
justify  me  in  calling  it  grotesque? 

"It  is  well  fortified;  and  in  this  respect  is  as  much 
indebted  to  nature  as  to  art." 

Very  true. 

"There  are  a  prodigious  number  of  stately 
palaces." 


276 


FOUR    BEASTS    IN    ONE 

There  are. 

"And  the  numerous  temples,  sumptuous  and  mag 
nificent,  may  bear  comparison  with  the  most  lauded 
of  antiquity." 

All  this  I  must  acknowledge.  Still  there  is  an  infin 
ity  of  mud  huts  and  abominable  hovels.  We  cannot 
help  perceiving  abundance  of  filth  in  every  kennel,  and 
were  it  not  for  the  overpowering  fumes  of  idolatrous 
incense  I  have  no  doubt  we  should  find  a  most  intoler 
able  stench.  Did  you  ever  behold  streets  so  insuffer 
ably  narrow  or  houses  so  miraculously  tall?  What  a 
gloom  their  shadows  cast  upon  the  ground !  It  is  well 
the  swinging  lamps  in  those  endless  colonnades  are 
kept  burning  throughout  the  day ;  we  should  otherwise 
have  the  darkness  of  Egypt  in  the  time  of  her  desola 
tion. 

"It  is  certainly  a  strange  place !  What  is  the  mean 
ing  of  yonder  singular  building  1  See !  it  towers 
above  all  others  and  lies  to  the  eastward  of  what  I 
take  to  be  the  royal  palace!" 

That  is  the  new  Temple  of  the  Sun,  who  is  adored 
in  Syria  under  the  title  of  Elah  Gabalah.  Hereafter  a 
very  notorious  Roman  Emperor  will  institute  this  wor 
ship  in  Rome  and  thence  derive  a  cognomen,  Helio- 
gabalus.  I  daresay  you  would  like  to  take  a  peep  at 
the  divinity  of  the  temple.  You  need  not  look  up  at 
the  heavens ;  his  Sunship  is  not  there  —  at  least  not 
the  Sunship  adored  by  the  Syrians.  THAT  deity  will 
be  found  in  the  interior  of  yonder  building.  He  is  wor 
shipped  under  the  figure  of  a  large  stone  pillar  termi- 


277 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

nating  at  the  summit  in  a  cone  or  PYRAMID,  whereby  is 
denoted  fire. 

''Hark!  —  behold!  —  who  CAN  those  ridiculous 
beings  be,  half-naked,  with  their  faces  painted,  shout 
ing  and  gesticulating  to  the  rabble?" 

Some  few  are  mountebanks.  Others  more  particu 
larly  belong  to  the  race  of  philosophers.  The  greatest 
portion,  however  —  those  especially  who  belabor  the 
populace  with  clubs  —  are  the  principal  courtiers  of 
the  palace,  executing,  as  in  duty  bound,  some  laudable 
comicality  of  the  king's. 

"But  what  have  we  here?  Heavens!  the  town  is 
swarming  with  wild  beasts  !  How  terrible  a  spectacle ! 
how  dangerous  a  peculiarity!" 

Terrible,  if  you  please ;  but  not  in  the  least  degree 
dangerous.  Each  animal,  if  you  will  take  the  pains  to 
observe,  is  following,  very  quietly,  in  the  wake  of  its 
master.  Some  few,  to  be  sure,  are  led  with  a  rope 
about  the  neck,  but  these  are  chiefly  the  lesser  or  timid 
species.  The  lion,  the  tiger,  and  the  leopard  are  en 
tirely  without  restraint.  They  have  been  trained  with 
out  difficulty  to  their  present  profession,  and  attend 
upon  their  respective  owners  in  the  capacity  of  valets- 
de-chambre.  It  is  true,  there  are  occasions  when  nature 
asserts  her  violated  dominion ;  but  then  the  devouring 
of  a  man-at-arms  or  the  throttling  of  a  consecrated 
bull  is  a  circumstance  of  too  little  moment  to  be  more 
than  hinte^i  at  in  Epidaphne. 

"But  what  extraordinary  tumult  do  J  hear? 
Surely  this  is  a  loud  noise  even  for  Antioch !  It  argues 
some  commotion  of  unusual  interest." 

278 


FOUR    BEASTS    IN    ONE 

Yes  —  undoubtedly.  The  king  has  ordered  some 
novel  spectacle,  some  gladiatorial  exhibition  at  the 
hippodrome,  or  perhaps  the  massacre  of  the  Scythian 
prisoners,  or  the  conflagration  of  his  new  palace,  or 
the  tearing  down  of  a  handsome  temple,  or,  indeed,  a 
bon-fire  of  a  few  Jews.  The  uproa*r  increases.  Shouts 
of  laughter  ascend  the  skies.  The  air  becomes  dis 
sonant  with  wind  instruments,  and  horrible  with  the 
clamor  of  a  million  throats.  Let  us  descend,  for  the 
love  of  fun,  and  see  what  is  going  on !  This  way.  Be 
careful !  Here  we  are  in  the  principal  street,  which  is 
called  the  street  of  Timarchus.  The  sea  of  people  is 
coming  this  way,  and  we  shall  find  a  difficulty  in  stem 
ming  the  tide.  They  are  pouring  through  the  alley 
of  Heraclides,  which  leads  directly  from  the  palace; 
therefore  the  king  is  most  probably  among  the  rioters. 
Yes,  I  hear  the  shouts  of  the  herald  proclaiming  his 
approach  in  the  pompous  phraseology  of  the  East.  We 
shall  have  a  glimpse  of  his  person  as  he  passes  by  the 
temple  of  Ashimah.  Let  us  ensconce  ourselves  in  the 
vestibule  of  the  sanctuary;  he  will  be  here  anon.  In 
the  meantime  let  us  survey  this  image.  What  is  it? 
Oh !  it  is  the  god  Ashimah,  in  proper  person.  You  per 
ceive,  however,  that  he  is  neither  a  lamb,  nor  a  goat, 
nor  a  satyr;  neither  has  he  much  resemblance  to  the 
Pan  of  the  Arcadians.  Yet  all  these  appearances  have 
been  given  —  I  beg  pardon,  WILL  be  given  —  by 
the  learned  of  future  ages,  to  the  Ashimah  of  the  Syr 
ians.  Put  on  your  spectacles  and  tell  me  what  it  is. 
What  is  it? 

"Bless  me!  it  is  an  ape!" 

279 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

True!  a  baboon;  but  by  no  means  the  less  a  deity. 
His  name  is  a  derivation  of  the  Greek  Simla  —  what 
great  fools  are  antiquarians !  But  see !  see !  yonder 
scampers  a  ragged  little  urchin.  Where  is  he  going? 
What  is  he  bawling  about?  What  does  he  say?  Oh! 
he  says  the  king  is  coming  in  triumph;  that  he  is 
dressed  in  state;  that  he  has  just  finished  putting  to 
death,  with  his  own  hand,  a  thousand  chained  Israelit- 
ish  prisoners !  For  this  exploit  the  ragamuffin  is  laud 
ing  him  to  the  skies!  Hark!  here  comes  a  troop  of 
a  similar  description.  They  have  made  a  Latin  hymn 
upon  the  valor  of  the  king  and  are  singing  it  as  they 
go: 

Mille,  mille,  mille, 

Mille,  mille,  mille, 

Decollavimus,  unus  homo! 

Mille,   mille,    mille,   mille,    decollavimus! 

Mille,  mille,  mille, 

Vivat  qui  mille  mille  occidit! 

Tantum  vini  habet  nemo 

Quantum  fudit  sanguinis!  * 

Which  may  be  thus  paraphrased: 

A  thousand,  a  thousand,  a  thousand, 
A  thousand,  a  thousand,  a  thousand, 
We,  with  one  warrior,  have  slain! 
A  thousand,  a  thousand,  a  thousand,  a  thousand. 


*  Flavius  Vopiscus  says  that  the  hymn  here  introduced 
was  sung  by  the  rabble  upon  the  occasion  of  Aurelian,  in 
the  Sarmatic  war,  having  slain,  with  his  own  hand,  nine 
hundred  and  fifty  of  the  enemy. 

280 


FOUR    BEASTS    IN    ONE 

Sing  a  thousand  over  again! 

Soho!  — let  us  sing 

Long  life  to  our  king, 
Who   knocked  over  a  thousand   so   fine! 

Soho !  —  let  us  roar, 

He  has  given  us  more 

Eed  gallons  of  gore 
Than  all  Syria  can  furnish  of  wine! 

"Do  you  hear  that  flourish  of  trumpets?" 

Yes,  the  king  is  coming!  See!  the  people  are 
aghast  with  admiration  and  lift  up  their  eyes  to  the 
heavens  in  reverence!  He  comes!  he  is  coming! 
there  he  is ! 

"Who?  where?  the  king?  I  do  not  behold  him, — 
cannot  say  that  I  perceive  him." 

Then  you  must  be  blind. 

"Very  possible.  Still  I  see  nothing  but  a  tumultu 
ous  mob  of  idiots  and  madmen,  who  are  busy  in  pros 
trating  themselves  before  a  gigantic  camelopard  and 
endeavoring  to  obtain  a  kiss  of  the  animal's  hoofs. 
See !  the  beast  has  very  justly  kicked  one  of  the  rabble 
over  —  and  another  —  and  another  —  and  another. 
Indeed,  I  cannot  help  admiring  the  animal  for  the 
excellent  use  he  is  making  of  his  feet. ' ' 

Rabble,  indeed!  Why,  these  are  the  noble  and 
free  citizens  of  Epidaphne !  Beast,  did  you  say  ?  take 
care  that  you  are  not  overheard.  Do  you  not  per 
ceive  that  the  animal  has  the  visage  of  a  man?  Why, 
my  dear  sir,  that  camelopard  is  no  other  than  Antio- 
chus  Epiphanes  —  Antiochus  the  Illustrious,  King  of 


281 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

Syria,  and  the  most  potent  of  all  the  autocrats  of  the 
East!  It  is  true  that  he  is  entitled,  at  times,  Antio- 
chus  Epimanes,— Antiochus  the  madman,— but  that 
is  because  all  people  have  not  the  capacity  to  appre 
ciate  his  merits.  It  is  also  certain  that  he  is  at  pres 
ent  ensconced  in  the  hide  of  a  beast,  and  is  doing  his 
best  to  play  the  part  of  a  camelopard ;  but  this  is  done 
for  the  better  sustaining  his  dignity  as  king.  Be 
sides,  the  monarch  is  of  gigantic  statue,  and  the  dress 
is  therefore  neither  unbecoming  nor  overlarge.  We 
may,  however,  presume  he  would  not  have  adopted 
it  but  for  some  occasion  of  especial  state.  Such,  you 
will  allow,  is  the  massacre  of  a  thousand  Jews.  With 
how  superior  a  dignity  the  monarch  perambulates  on 
all  fours !  His  tail,  you  perceive,  is  held  aloft  by  his 
two  principal  concubines,  Elline  and  Argelais;  and 
his  whole  appearance  would  be  infinitely  prepossessing 
were  it  not  for  the  protuberance  of  his  eyes,  which  will 
certainly  start  out  of  his  head,  and  the  queer  color 
of  his  face,  which  has  become  nondescript  from  the 
quantity  of  wine  he  has  swallowed.  Let  us  follow 
him  to  the  hippodrome,  whither  he  is  proceeding,  and 
listen  to  the  song  of  triumph  which  he  is  commencing : 

Who   is   king  but  Epiphanes? 

Say  —  do   you   know? 
Who   is   king  but   Epiphanes? 

Bravo !  —  bravo ! 
There    is    none    but    Epiphanes, 

No  —  there   is  none: 
So  tear  down  the  temples, 

And  put  out  the  sun! 


282 


FOUR    BEASTS    IN    ONE 

Well  and  strenuously  sung!  The  populace  are 
hailing  him  "Prince  of  Poets,"  as  well  as  "Glory 
of  the  East,"  "Delight  of  the  Universe,"  and  "Most 
Eemarkable  of  Camelopards."  They  have  encored 
his  effusion,  and  —  do  you  hear  ?  —  he  is  singing  it 
over  again.  When  he  arrives  at  the  hippodrome  he 
will  be  crowned  with  the  poetic  wreath,  in  anticipa 
tion  of  his  victory  at  the  approaching  Olympics. 

"But,  good  Jupiter!  what  is  the  matter  in  the 
crowd  behind  us?" 

Behind  us,  did  you  say  ?  —  oh !  ah !  —  I  perceive. 
My  friend,  it  is  well  that  you  spoke  in  time.  Let  us  get 
into  a  place  of  safety  as  soon  as  possible !  Here !  — 
let  us  conceal  ourselves  in  the  arch  of  this  aqueduct 
and  I  will  inform  you  presently  of  the  origin  of  the 
commotion.  It  has  turned  out  as  I  have  been  anticipa 
ting.  The  singular  appearance  of  the  camelopard  with 
the  head  of  a  man  has,  it  seems, -given  offence  to  the 
notions  of  propriety  entertained  in  general  by  the 
wild  animals  domesticated  in  the  city.  A  mutiny 
has  been  the  result;  and,  as  is  usual  upon  such  occa 
sions,  all  human  efforts  will  be  of  no  avail  in  quelling 
the  mob.  Several  of  the  Syrians  have  lately  been 
devoured;  but  the  general  voice  of  the  four-footed 
patriots  seems  to  be  for  eating  up  the  camelopard. 
"The  Prince  of  Poets,"  therefore,  is  upon  his  hinder 
legs  running  for  his  life.  His  courtiers  have  left  him 
in  the  lurch,  and  his  concubines  have  followed  so  ex 
cellent  an  example.  "Delight  of  the  Universe,"  thou 
art  in  a  sad  predicament!  "Glory  of  the  East,"  thou 
art  in  danger  of  mastication !  Therefore  never  regard 


283 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

so  piteously  thy  tail ;  it  will  undoubtedly  be  draggled 
in  the  mud,  and  for  this  there  is  no  help.  Look  not 
behind  thee,  then,  at  its  unavoidable  degradation; 
but  take  courage,  ply  thy  legs  with  vigor,  and  scud  for 
the  hippodrome !  Remember  that  thou  art  Antiochus 
Epiphanes, —  Antiochus  the  Illustrious!  also  "Prince 
of  Poets/'  "Glory  of  the  East,"  "Delight  of  the  Uni 
verse,"  and  "Most  Remarkable  of  Camelopards ! " 
Heavens!  what  a  power  of  speed  thou  art  displaying! 
What  a  capacity  for  leg-bail  thou  art  developing! 
Run,  Prince !  —  Bravo,  Epiphanes !  —  Well  done, 
Camelopard ! —  Glorious  Antiochus !  He  runs !  he 
leaps !  he  flies !  Like  an  arrow  from  a  catapult  he  ap 
proaches  the  hippodrome !  He  leaps !  he  shrieks !  he  is 
there!  This  is  well;  for  hadst  thou,  "Glory  of  the 
East,"  been  half  a  second  longer  in  reaching  the 
gates  of  the  ampitheatre,  there  is  not  a  bear's  cub 
in  Epidaphne  that  would  have  had  a  nibble  at  thy 
carcass.  Let  us  be  off,  let  us  take  our  departure! 
for  we  shall  find  our  delicate  modern  ears  unable  to 
endure  the  vast  uproar  which  is  about  to  commence 
in  celebration  of  the  king's  escape!  Listen!  it  has 
already  commenced.  See,  the  whole  town  is  topsy 
turvy. 

' '  Surely  this  is  the  most  populous  city  of  the  East ! 
What  a  wilderness  of  people!  What  a  jumble  of  all 
ranks  and  ages!  What  a  multiplicity  of  sects  and 
nations!  what  a  variety  of  costumes!  what  a  Babel 
of  languages!  what  a  screaming  of  beasts!  what  a 
tinkling  of  instruments!  what  a  parcel  of  philos 
ophers  ! ' ' 


FOUR    BEASTS    IN    ONE 

Come,  let  us  be  off. 

' '  Stay  a  moment !  I  see  a  vast  hubbub  in  the  hip 
podrome;  what  is  the  meaning  of  it,  I  beseech  you!" 

That  ?  —  oh,  nothing !  The  noble  and  free  citizens 
of  Epidaphne  being,  as  they  declare,  well  satisfied 
of  the  faith,  valor,  wisdom,  and  divinity  of  their  king, 
and  having,  moreover,  been  eye-witnesses  of  his  late 
superhuman  agility,  do  think  it  no  more  than  their 
duty  to  invest  his  brows  (in  addition  to  the  poetic 
crown)  with  the  wreath  of  victory  in  the  foot-race; 
a  wreath  which  it  is  evident  he  MUST  obtain  at  the 
celebration  of  the  next  Olympiad,  and  which,  there 
fore,  they  now  give  him  in  advance. 


285 


THE    FALL    OF    THE    HOUSE 
OF     USHER 

Son    cceur   est   un   luth   suspendu; 
Sitot  qu'  on  le  touche  il  r£sonne. 

DE  BERANGER. 

CURING  the  whole  of  a  dull,  dark,  and 
A  soundless  day  in  the  autumn  of  the 
1  year,  when  the  clouds  hung  oppressively 
low  in  the  heavens,  I  had  been  passing 
alone,  on  horseback,  through  a  singu 
larly  dreary  tract  of  country,  and  at  length  found 
myself,  as  the  shades  of  the  evening  drew  on,  within 
view  of  the  melancholy  House  of  Usher.  I  know  not 
how  it  was,  but,  with  the  first  glimpse  of  the  building, 
a  sense  of  insufferable  gloom  pervaded  my  spirit.  I 
say  insufferable ;  for  the  feeling  was  unrelieved  by  any 
of  that  half-pleasurable,  because  poetic,  sentiment 
with  which  the  mind  usually  receives  even  the  sternest 
natural  images  of  the  desolate  or  terrible.  I  looked 
upon  the  scene  before  me  —  upon  the  mere  house,  and 
the  simple  landscape  features  of  the  domain,  upon 
the  bleak  walls,  upon  the  vacant  eye-like  windows, 
upon  a  few  rank  sedges,  and  upon  a  few  white  trunks 
of  decayed  trees,  with  an  utter  depression  of  soul 
which  I  can  compare  to  no  earthly  sensation  more 
properly  than  to  the  after-dream  of  the  reveller  upon 
opium,  the  bitter  lapse  into  every-day  life,  the  hideous 

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FALL    OF    THE     HOUSE     OF     USHER 

dropping  off  of  the  veil.  There  was  an  iciness,  a 
sinking,  a  sickening  of  the  heart,  an  unredeemed 
dreariness  of  thought  which  no  goading  of  the  imagi 
nation  could  torture  into  aught  of  the  sublime.  What 
was  it,  I  paused  to  think,  what  was  it  that  so  unnerved 
me  in  the  contemplation  of  the  House  of  Usher?  It 
was  a  mystery  all  insoluble;  nor  could  I  grapple 
with  the  shadowy  fancies  that  crowded  upon  me  as 
I  pondered.  I  was  forced  to  fall  back  upon  the 
unsatisfactory  conclusion  that  while  beyond  doubt 
there  are  combinations  of  very  simple  natural  objects 
which  have  the  power  of  thus  affecting  us,  still  the 
analysis  of  this  power  lies  among  considerations  be 
yond  our  depth.  It  was  possible,  I  reflected,  that  a 
mere  different  arrangement  of  the  particulars  of  the 
scene,  of  the  details  of  the  picture,  would  be  sufficient 
to  modify,  or  perhaps  to  annihilate,  its  capacity  for 
sorrowful  impression;  and,  acting  upon  this  idea,  I 
reined  my  horse  to  the  precipitous  brink  of  a  black 
and  lurid  tarn  that  lay  in  unruffled  luster  by  the  dwell 
ing,  and  gazed  down,  but  with  a  shudder  even  more 
thrilling  than  before,  upon  the  remodelled  and  in 
verted  images  of  the  gray  sedge,  and  the  ghastly  tree- 
stems,  and  the  vacant  and  eye-like  windows. 

Nevertheless,  in  this  mansion  of  gloom  I  now 
proposed  to  myself  a  sojourn  of  some  weeks.  Its  pro 
prietor,  Roderick  Usher,  had  been  one  of  my  boon 
companions  in  boyhood;  but  many  years  had  elapsed 
since  our  last  meeting.  A  letter,  however,  had  lately 
reached  me  in  a  distant  part  of  the  country,  a  letter 
from  him,  which,  in  its  wildly  importunate  nature, 


287 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 


had  admitted  of  no  other  than  a  personal  reply.  The 
MS.  gave  evidence  of  nervous  agitation.  The  writer 
spoke  of  acute  bodily  illness,  of  a  mental  disorder 
which  oppressed  him,  and  of  an  earnest  desire  to  see 
me,  as  his  best  and  indeed  his  only  personal  friend, 
with  a  view  of  attempting,  by  the  cheerfulness  of  my 
society,  some  alleviation  of  his  maLady.  It  was  the 
manner  in  which  all  this,  and  much  more,  was  said, 
it  was  the  apparent  HEART  that  went  with  his  request, 
which  allowed  me  no  room  for  hesitation;  and  I 
accordingly  obeyed  forthwith  what  I  still  considered 
a  very  singular  summons. 

Although  as  boys  we  had  been  even  intimate  asso 
ciates,  yet  I  really  knew  little  of  my  friend.  His 
reserve  had  been  always  excessive  and  habitual.  I 
was  aware,  however,  that  his  very  ancient  family 
had  been  noted,  time  out  of  mind,  for  a  peculiar  sen 
sibility  of  temperament,  displaying  itself ,  through  long 
ages,  in  many  works  of  exalted  art,  and  manifested,  of 
late,  in  repeated  deeds  of  munificent  yet  unobtrusive 
charity,  as  well  as  in  a  passionate  devotion  to  the  in 
tricacies,  perhaps  even  more  than  to  the  orthodox  and 
easily  recognizable  beauties,  of  musical  science.  I  had 

J      T 

learned,  too,  the  very  remarkable  fact  that  the  stem 
of  the  Usher  race,  all  time-honored  as  it  was,  had  put 
forth,  at  no  period,  any  enduring  branch;  in  other 
words,  that  the  entire  family  lay  in  the  direct  line  of 
descent,  and  had  always,  with  very  trifling  and  very 
temporary  variation,  so  lain.  It  was  this  deficiency, 
I  considered,  while  running  over  in  thought  the  per 
fect  keeping  of  the  character  of  the  premises  with  the 

288 


FALL    OF    THE     HOUSE    OF     USHER 

accredited  character  of  the  people,  and  while  spec 
ulating  upon  the  possible  influence  which  the  one,  in 
the  long  lapse  of  centuries,  might  have  exercised  upon 
the  other  —  it  was  this  deficiency,  perhaps,  of  collat 
eral  issue,  and  the  consequent  undeviating  transmis 
sion,  from  sire  to  son,  of  the  patrimony  with  the  name, 
which  had,  at  length,  so  identified  the  two  as  to  merge 
the  original  title  of  the  estate  in  the  quaint  and  equiv 
ocal  appellation  of  the  " House  of  Usher,"  an  ap 
pellation  which  seemed  to  include,  in  the  minds  of  the 
peasantry  who  used  it,  both  the  family  and  the  family 
mansion. 

I  have  said  that  the  sole  effect  of  my  somewhat 
childish  experiment, —  that  of  looking  down  within 
the  tarn,  had  been  to  deepen  the  first  singular  impres 
sion.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  consciousness 
of  the  rapid  increase  of  my  superstition  (for  why 
should  I  not  so  term  it?)  served  mainly  to  accelerate 
the  increase  itself.  Such,  I  have  long  known,  is  the 
paradoxical  law  of  all  sentiments  having  terror  as  a 
basis.  And  it  might  have  been  for  this  reason  only, 
that,  when  I  again  uplifted  my  eyes  to  the  house 
itself,  from  its  image  in  the  pool,  there  grew  in  my 
mind  a  strange  fancy,  a  fancy  so  ridiculous,  indeed, 
that  I  but  mention  it  to  show  the  vivid  force  of  the 
sensations  which  oppressed  me.  I  had  so  worked  upon 
my  imagination  as  really  to  believe  that  about 
the  whole  mansion  and  domain  there  hung  an 
atmosphere  peculiar  to  themselves  and  their  imme 
diate  vicinity,  an  atmosphere  which  had  no  affinity 
with  the  air  of  heaven,  but  which  had  reeked  up 

1—19  289 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

from  the  decayed  trees,  and  the  gray  wall,  and  the 
silent  tarn,  a  pestilent  and  mystic  vapor,  dull,  slug 
gish,  faintly  discernible,  and  leaden-hued. 

Shaking  off  from  my  spirit  what  MUST  have  been  a 
dream,  I  scanned  more  narrowly  the  real  aspect  of  the 
building.  Its  principal  feature  seemed  to  be  that  of 
an  excessive  antiquity.  The  discoloration  of  ages  had 
been  great.  Minute  fungi  overspread  the  whole  ex 
terior,  hanging  in  a  fine  tangled  web-work  from  the 
eaves.  Yet  all  this  was  apart  from  any  extraordinary 
dilapidation.  No  portion  of  the  masonry  had  fallen; 
and  there  appeared  to  be  a  wild  inconsistency  between 
its  still  perfect  adaptation  of  parts  and  the  crumbling 
condition  of  the  individual  stones.  In  this  there  was 
much  that  reminded  me  of  the  specious  totality  of  old 
woodwork  which  has  rotted  for  long  years  in  some 
neglected  vault,  with  no  disturbance  from  the  breath 
of  the  external  air.  Beyond  this  indication  of  exten 
sive  decay,  however,  the  fabric  gave  little  token  of 
instability.  Perhaps  the  eye  of  a  scrutinizing  ob 
server  might  have  discovered  a  barely  perceptible 
fissure,  which,  extending  from  the  roof  of  the  building 
in  front,made  its  way  down  the  wall  in  a  zigzag 
direction,  until  it  became  lost  in  the  sullen  waters 
of  the  tarn. 

Noticing  these  things,  I  rode  over  a  short  causeway 
to  the  house.  A  servant  in  waiting  took  my  horse, 
and  I  entered  the  Gothic  archway  of  the  hall.  A 
valet,  of  stealthy  step,  thence  conducted  me,  in 
silence,  through  many  dark  and  intricate  passages 
in  my  progress,  to  the  STUDIO  of  his  master.  Much 


290 


FALL    OF    THE     HOUSE     OF     USHER 

that  I  encountered  on  the  way  contributed,  I  know 
not  how,  to  heighten  the  vague  sentiments  of  which 
I  have  already  spoken.  While  the  objects  around 
me  —  while  the  carvings  of  the  ceilings,  the  sombre 
tapestries  of  the  walls,  the  even  blackness  of  the 
floors,  and  the  phantasmagoric  armorial  trophies 
which  rattled  as  I  strode,  were  but  matters  to  which, 
or  to  such  as  which,  I  had  been  accustomed  from  my 
infancy,  while  I  hesitated  not  to  acknowledge  how 
familiar  was  all  this,  I  still  wondered  to  find  how 
unfamiliar  were  the  fancies  which  ordinary  images 
were  stirring  up.  On  one  of  the  staircases  I  met  the 
physician  of  the  family.  His  countenance,  I  thought, 
wore  a  mingled  expression  of  low  cunning  and  per 
plexity.  He  accosted  me  with  trepidation  and  passed 
on.  The  valet  now  threw  open  a  door  and  ushered 
me  into  the  presence  of  his  master. 

The  room  in  which  I  found  myself  was  very  large 
and  lofty.  The  windows  were  long,  narrow,  and 
pointed,  and  at  so  vast  a  distance  from  the  black 
oaken  floor  as  to  be  altogether  inaccessible  from 
within.  Feeble  gleams  of  encrimsoned  light  made 
their  way  through  the  trellised  panes,  and  served  to 
render  sufficiently  distinct  the  more  prominent  ob 
jects  around;  the  eye,  however,  struggled  in  vain  to 
reach  the  remoter  angles  of  the  chamber,  or  the  re 
cesses  of  the  vaulted  and  fretted  ceiling.  Dark  dra 
peries  hung  upon  the  wall.  The  general  furniture 
was  profuse,  comfortless,  antique,  and  tattered.  Many 
books  and  musical  instruments  lay  scattered  about, 
but  failed  to  give  any  vitality  to  the  scene.  I  felt  that 

291 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

I  breathed  an  atmosphere  of  sorrow.  An  air  of  stern, 
deep,  and  irredeemable  gloom  hung  over  and  per 
vaded  all. 

Upon  my  entrance,  Usher  arose  from  a  sofa  on 
which  he  had  been  lying  at  full  length,  and  greeted 
me  with  a  vivacious  warmth  which  had  much  in  it,  I 
at  first  thought,  of  an  over-done  cordiality,  of  the 
constrained  effort  of  the  ennuye  man  of  the  world. 
A  glance,  however,  at  his  countenance  convinced  me 
of  his  perfect  sincerity.  We  sat  down ;  and  for  some 
moments,  while  he  spoke  not,  I  gazed  upon  him  with 
a  feeling  half  of  pity,  half  of  awe.  Surely,  man  had 
never  before  so  terribly  altered,  in  so  brief  a  period, 
as  had  Roderick  Usher!  It  was  with  difficulty  that 
I  could  bring  myself  to  admit  the  identity  of  the  wan 
being  before  me  with  the  companion  of  my  early 
boyhood.  Yet  the  character  of  his  face  had  been  at  all 
times  remarkable.  A  cadaverousness  of  complexion; 
an  eye  large,  liquid,  and  luminous  beyond  comparison ; 
lips  somewhat  thin  and  very  pallid,  but  of  a  surpass 
ingly  beautiful  curve;  a  nose  of  a  delicate  Hebrew 
model,  but  with  a  breadth  of  nostril  unusual  in  similar 
formations;  a  finely  moulded  chin,  speaking,  in  its 
want  of  prominence,  of  a  want  of  moral  energy ;  hair 
of  a  more  than  web-like  softness  and  tenuity, —  these 
features,  with  an  inordinate  expansion  above  the  re 
gions  of  the  temple,  made  up  altogether  a  countenance 
not  easily  to  be  forgotten.  And  now  in  the  mere  exag 
geration  of  the  prevailing  character  of  these  features, 
and  of  the  expression  they  were  wont  to  convey,  lay 
so  much  of  change  that  I  doubted  to  whom  I  spoke. 

292 


FALL    OF    THE     HOUSE    OF     USHER 

The  now  ghastly  pallor  of  the  skin,  and  the  now 
miraculous  luster  of  the  eye,  above  all  things  startled 
and  even  awed  me.  The  silken  hair,  too,  had  been 
suffered  to  grow  all  unheeded,  and  as,  in  its  wild  gos 
samer  texture,  it  floated  rather  than  fell  about  the 
face,  I  could  not,  even  with  effort,  connect  its  Ara 
besque  expression  with  any  idea  of  simple  humanity. 

In  the  manner  of  my  friend  I  was  at  once  struck 
with  an  incoherence,  an  inconsistency;  and  I  soon 
found  this  to  arise  from  a  series  of  feeble  and  futile 
struggles  to  overcome  an  habitual  trepidancy,  an  ex 
cessive  nervous  agitation.  For  something  of  this 
nature  I  had  indeed  been  prepared,  no  less  by  his 
letter  than  by  reminiscences  of  certain  boyish  traits, 
and  by  conclusions  deduced  from  his  peculiar  physical 
conformation  and  temperament.  His  action  was  alter 
nately  vivacious  and  sullen.  His  voice  varied  rapidly 
from  a  tremulous  indecision  (when  the  animal  spirits 
seemed  utterly  in  abeyance)  to  that  species  of 
energetic  concision,  that  abrupt,  weighty,  unhurried, 
and  hollow-sounding  enunciation,  that  leaden,  self- 
balanced,  and  perfectly  modulated  guttural  utterance, 
which  may  be  observed  in  the  lost  drunkard,  or  the 
irreclaimable  eater  of  opium,  during  the  periods  of 
his  most  intense  excitement. 

It  was  thus  that  he  spoke  of  the  object  of  my  visit, 
of  his  earnest  desire  to  see  me,  and  of  the  solace  he 
expected  me  to  afford  him.  He  entered,  at  some 
length,  into  what  he  conceived  to  be  the  nature  of  his 
malady.  It  was,  he  said,  a  constitutional  and  family 
evil,  and  one  for  which  he  despaired  to  find  a  remedy ; 

293 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

a  mere  nervous  affection,  he  immediately  added,  which 
would  undoubtedly  soon  pass  off.  It  displayed  itself 
in  a  host  of  unnatural  sensations.  Some  of  these,  as  he 
detailed  them,  interested  and  bewildered  me;  al 
though,  perhaps,  the  terms  and  the  general  manner 
of  their  narration  had  their  weight.  He  suffered 
much  from  a  morbid  acuteners  of  the  senses ;  the  most 
insipid  food  was  alone  endurable ;  he  could  wear  only 
garments  of  certain  texture;  the  odors  of  all  flowers 
were  oppressive ;  his  eyes  were  tortured  by  even  a 
faint  light;  and  there  were  but  peculiar  sounds,  and 
these  from  stringed  instruments,  which  did  not  in 
spire  him  with  horror. 

To  an  anomalous  species  of  terror  I  found  him  a 
bounden  slave.  "I  shall  perish,"  said  he,  "I  MUST 
perish  in  this  deplorable  folly.  Thus,  thus,  and  not 
otherwise,  shall  I  be  lost.  I  dread  the  events  of  the 
future,  not  in  themselves,  but  in  their  results.  I 
shudder  at  the  thought  of  any,  even  the  most  trivial, 
incident,  which  may  operate  upon  this  intolerable 
agitation  of  soul.  I  have,  indeed,  no  abhorrence  of 
danger,  except  in  its  absolute  effect,  in  terror.  In 
this  unnerved,  in  this  pitiable,  condition  I  feel  that 
the  period  will  sooner  or  later  arrive  when  I  must 
abandon  life  and  reason  together,  in  some  struggle 
with  the  grim  phantasm,  FEAR.  ' ' 

I  learned,  moreover,  at  intervals,  and  through 
broken  and  equivocal  hints,  another  singular  feature 
of  this  mental  condition.  He  was  enchained  by  certain 
superstitious  impressions  in  regard  to  the  dwelling 
which  he  tenanted,  and  whence,  for  many  years,  he 

294 


FALL    OF    THE     HOUSE     OF     USHER 

had  never  ventured  forth;  in  regard  to  an  influence 
\vhose  supposititious  force  was  conveyed  in  terms  too 
shadowy  here  to  be  re-stated,  an  influence  which  some 
peculiarities  in  the  mere  form  and  substance  of  his 
family  mansion  had,  by  dint  of  long  sufferance,  he 
said,  obtained  over  his  spirit,  an  effect  which  the 
physique  of  the  gray  walls  and  turrets,  and  of  the  dim 
tarn  into  which  they  had  all  looked  down,  had,  at 
length,  brought  about  upon  the  morale  of  his  existence. 
He  admitted,  however,  although  with  hesitation, 
that  much  of  the  peculiar  gloom  which  thus  afflicted 
him  could  be  traced  to  a  more  natural  and  far  more 
palpable  origin:  to  the  severe  and  long  continued  ill 
ness,  indeed  to  the  evidently  approaching  dissolution, 
of  a  tenderly  beloved  sister,  his  sole  companion  for 
long  years,  his  last  and  only  relative  on  earth.  "Her 
decease,"  he  said,  with  a  bitterness  which  I  can  never 
forget,  "would  leave  him  (him,  the  hopeless  and  the 
frail)  the  last  of  the  ancient  race  of  the  Ushers." 
While  he  spoke,  the  Lady  Madeline  (for  so  was  she 
called)  passed  through  a  remote  portion  of  the  apart 
ment,  and,  without  having  noticed  my  presence,  dis 
appeared.  I  regarded  her  with  an  utter  astonishment 
not  unmingled  with  dread;  and  yet  I  found  it  impos 
sible  to  account  for  such  feelings.  A  sensation  of 
stupor  oppressed  me  as  my  eyes  followed  her  retreat 
ing  steps.  When  a  door,  at  length,  closed  upon  her, 
my  glance  sought  instinctively  and  eagerly  the  counte 
nance  of  the  brother;  but  he  had  buried  his  face  in 
his  hands,  and  I  could  only  perceive  that  a  far  more 


295 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

than  ordinary  wanness  had  overspread  the  emaciated 
fingers,  through  which  trickled  many  passionate  tears. 

The  disease  of  the  Lady  Madeline  had  long  baffled 
the  skill  of  her  physicians.  A  settled  apathy,  a 
gradual  wasting  away  of  the  person,  and  frequent 
although  transient  affections  of  a  partially  cataleptical 
character  were  the  unusual  diagnosis.  Hitherto  she 
had  steadily  borne  up  against  the  pressure  of  her 
malady,  and  had  not  betaken  herself  finally  to  bed; 
but  on  the  closing  in  of  the  evening  of  my  arrival  at 
the  house,  she  succumbed  (as  her  brother  told  me  at 
night  with  inexpressible  agitation)  to  the  prostrating 
power  of  the  destroyer;  and  I  learned  that  the 
glimpse  I  had  obtained  of  her  person  would  thus 
probably  be  the  last  I  should  obtain,  that  the  lady,  at 
least  while  living,  would  be  seen  by  me  no  more. 

For  several  days  ensuing,  her  name  was  unmen- 
tioned  by  either  Usher  or  myself;  and  during  this 
period  I  was  busied  in  earnest  endeavors  to  alleviate 
the  melancholy  of  my  friend.  We  painted  and  read 
together,  or  I  listened,  as  if  in  a  dream,  to  the  wild 
improvisations  of  his  speaking  guitar.  And  thus,  as  a 
closer  and  still  closer  intimacy  admitted  me  more  un 
reservedly  into  the  recesses  of  his  spirit,  the  more 
bitterly  did  I  perceive  the  futility  of  all  attempt  at 
cheering  a  mind  from  which  darkness,  as  if  an  inher 
ent  positive  quality,  poured  forth  upon  all  objects 
of  the  moral  and  physical  universe  in  one  unceasing 
radiation  of  gloom. 

I  shall  ever  bear  about  me  a  memory  of  the  many 
solemn  hours  I  thus  spent  alone  with  the  master  of 

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FALL    OF    THE     HOUSE     OF     USHER 

the  House  of  Usher.  Yet  I  should  fail  in  any  attempt 
to  convey  an  idea  of  the  exact  character  of  the  studies, 
or  of  the  occupations,  in  which  he  involved  me,  or 
led  me  the  way.  An  excited  and  highly  distempered 
ideality  threw  a  sulphureous  luster  over  all.  His  long 
improvised  dirges  will  ring  forever  in  my  ears. 
Among  other  things,  I  hold  painfully  in  mind  a  cer 
tain  singular  perversion  and  amplification  of  the 
wild  air  of  the  last  waltz  of  Von  Weber.  From  the 
paintings  over  which  his  elaborate  fancy  brooded,  and 
which  grew,  touch  by  touch,  into  vaguenesses  at  which 
I  shuddered  the  more  thrillingly,  because  I  shuddered 
knowing  not  why  —  from  these  paintings  (vivid  as 
their  images  now  are  before  me)  I  would  in  vain 
endeavor  to  educe  more  than  a  small  portion  which 
should  lie  within  the  compass  of  merely  written 
words.  By  the  utter  simplicity,  by  the  nakedness  of 
his  designs,  he  arrested  and  overawed  attention.  If 
ever  mortal  painted  an  idea,  that  mortal  was  Rod 
erick  Usher.  For  me,  at  least,  in  the  circumstances 
then  surrounding  me,  there  arose  out  of  the  pure 
abstractions  which  the  hypochondriac  contrived  to 
throw  upon  his  canvas,  an  intensity  of  intolerable 
awe,  no  shadow  of  which  felt  I  ever  yet  in  the  contem 
plation  of  the  certainly  glowing  yet  too  concrete 
reveries  of  Fuseli. 

One  of  the  phantasmagoric  conceptions  of  my 
friend,  partaking  not  so  rigidly  of  the  spirit  of  ab 
straction,  may  be  shadowed  forth,  although  feebly, 
in  words.  A  small  picture  presented  the  interior  of 
an  immensely  long  and  rectangular  vault  or  tunnel, 


297 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

with  low  walls,  smooth,  white,  and  without  inter 
ruption  or  device.  Certain  accessory  points  of  the 
design  served  well  to  convey  the  idea  that  this  exca 
vation  lay  at  an  exceeding  depth  below  the  surface  of 
the  earth.  No  outlet  was  observed  in  any  portion 
of  its  vast  extent,  and  no  torch  or  other  artificial 
source  of  light  was  discernible ;  yet  a  flood  of  intense 
rays  rolled  throughout,  and  bathed  the  whole  in  a 
ghastly  and  inappropriate  splendor. 

I  have  just  spoken  of  that  morbid  condition  of 
the  auditory  nerve  which  rendered  all  music  intoler 
able  to  the  sufferer,  with  the  exception  of  certain 
effects  of  stringed  instruments.  It  was,  perhaps,  the 
narrow  limits  to  which  he  thus  confined  himself  upon 
the  guitar,  which  gave  birth,  in  great  measure,  to  the 
fantastic  character  of  his  performances.  But  the 
fervid  facility  of  his  impromptus  could  not  be  so 
accounted  for.  They  must  have  been,  and  were,  in 
the  notes,  as  well  as  in  the  words  of  his  wild  fantasias 
(for  he  not  unfrequently  accompanied  himself  with 
rhymed  verbal  impro visions) '  the  result  of  that  in 
tense  mental  collectedness  and  concentration  to 
which  I  have  previously  alluded  as  observable  only  in 
particular  moments  of  the  highest  artificial  excite 
ment.  The  words  of  one  of  these  rhapsodies  I  have 
easily  remembered.  I  was,  perhaps,  the  more  forcibly 
impressed  with  it  as  he  gave  it,  because,  in  the  under 
or  mystic  current  of  its  meaning,  I  fancied  that  I 
perceived,  and  for  the  first  time,  a  full  consciousness 
on  the  part  of  Usher,  of  the  tottering  of  his  lofty 
reason  upon  her  throne.  The  verses,  which  were 

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FALL    OF    THE     HOUSE     OF     USHER 

entitled   "The   Haunted   Palace/7   ran   very   nearly, 
if  not  accurately,  thus: 


In  the  greenest  of  our  valleys 

By  good  angels  tenanted, 
Once  a  fair  and  stately  palace  — 

Radiant   palace  —  reared  its  head. 
In  the  monarch  Thought's  dominion 

It  stood  there! 
Never  seraph  spread  a  pinion 

Over  fabric  half  so  fair. 


II 


Banners  yellow,  glorious,  golden, 

On  its  roof  did  float  and  flow 
(This,  all  this,  was  in  the  olden 

Time  long  ago), 
And  every  gentle  air  that  dallied, 

In  that  sweet  day, 
Along  the  ramparts  plumed  and  pallid, 

A  winged  odor  went  away. 

Ill 

Wanderers  in  that  happy  valley 

Through  two  luminous  windows  saw 
Spirits  moving  musically 

To  a  lute's  well-tuned  law, 
Bound  about  a  throne  where,  sitting 

(Porphyrogene ! ) 
In  state  his  glory  well  befitting, 

The  ruler  of  the  realm  was  seen. 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 


IV 


And  all  with  pearl  and  ruby  glowing 

Was  the  fair  palace  door, 
Through  which  came  flowing,  flowing,  flowing, 

And  sparkling  evermore, 
A  troop  of  Echoes  whose  sweet  duty 

Was  but  to  sing, 
In  voices  of  surpassing  beauty, 

The  wit  and  wisdom  of  their  king. 


But  evil  things,  in  robes  of  sorrow, 

Assailed  the  monarch's  high  estate. 
(Ah,  let  us  mourn,  for  never  morrow 

Shall  dawn  upon  him,  desolate!) 
And,  round  about  his  home,  the  glory 

That  blushed   and  bloomed 
Is  but  a  dim-remembered  story 

Of  the  old  time  entombed. 


VI 


And  travelers  now,  within  that  valley, 

Through  the  red-litten  windows  see 
Vast  forms  that  move  fantastically 

To  a  discordant  melody, 
While,  like  a  rapid  ghastly  river, 

Through  the  pale  door 
A  hideous  throng  rush  out  forever, 

And  laugh  —  but  smile  no  more. 

I  well  remember  that  suggestions  arising  from  this 
ballad  led  us  into  a  train  of  thought  wherein 
there  became  manifest  an  opinion  of  Usher's,  which 


300 


FALL    OF    THE     HOUSE     OF     USHER 

I  mention  not  so  much  on  account  of  its  novelty  (for 
other  men  *  have  thought  thus),  as  on  account  of  the 
pertinacity  with  which  he  maintained  it.  This  opin 
ion,  in  its  general  form,  was  that  of  the  sentience  of 
all  vegetable  things.  But,  in  his  disordered  fancy, 
the  idea  had  assumed  a  more  daring  character,  and 
trespassed,  under  certain  conditions,  upon  the  king 
dom  of  inorganization.  I  lack  words  to  express  the 
full  extent,  or  the  earnest  ABANDON,  of  his  persuasion. 
The  belief,  however,  was  connected  (as  I  have  pre 
viously  hinted)  with  the  gray  stones  of  the  home  of 
his  forefathers.  The  conditions  of  the  sentience  had 
been  here,  he  imagined,  fulfilled  in  the  method  of 
collocation  of  these  stones, —  in  the  order  of  their  ar 
rangement,  as  well  as  in  that  of  the  many  fungi  which 
overspread  them,  and  of  the  decayed  trees  which 
stood  around;  above  all,  in  the  long  undisturbed  en 
durance  of  this  arrangement,  and  in  its  reduplication 
in  the  still  waters  of  the  tarn.  Its  evidence,  the 
evidence  of  the  sentience,  was  to  be  seen,  he  said 
(and  I  here  started  as  he  spoke),  in  the  gradual  yet 
certain  condensation  of  an  atmosphere  of  their  own 
about  the  waters  and  the  walls.  The  result  was  dis 
coverable,  he  added,  in  that  silent  yet  importunate 
and  terrible  influence  which  for  centuries  had 
moulded  the  destinies  of  his  family,  and  which  made 
him  what  I  now  saw  him,  what  he  was.  Such  opinions 
need  no  comment,  and  I  will  make  none. 


*  Watson,   Dr.   Percival,   Spallanzani,   and   especially   the 
Bishop  of  Landaff. —  See  Chemical  Essays,  vol.  v. 

301 


I 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

Our  books  —  the  books  which,  for  years,  had 
formed  no  small  portion  of  the  mental  existence  of 
the  invalid  —  were,  as  might  be  supposed,  in  strict 
keeping  with  this  character  of  phantasm.  We  pored 
together  over  such  works  as  the  Ververt  et  Chartreuse 
of  Gresset;  the  Belphegor  of  Machiavelli;  the  Heaven 
and  Hell  of  Swedenborg;  the  Subterranean  Voyage  of 
Nicholas  Klimm,  by  Holberg;  the  Chiromancy  of 
Kobert  Flud,  of  Jean  D'  Indagine,  and  of  De  la 
Chambre ;  the  Journey  into  the  Blue  Distance  of  Tieck ; 
and  the  City  of  the  Sun  of  Campanella.  One  favorite 
volume  was  a  small  octavo  edition  of  the  Directorium 
Inquisitorum,  by  the  Dominican  Eymeric  de  Gironne ; 
and  there  were  passages  in  Pomponius  Mela,  about  the 
old  African  Satyrs  and  (Egipans,  over  which  Usher 
would  sit  dreaming  for  hours.  His  chief  delight,  how 
ever,  was  found  in  the  perusal  of  an  exceedingly  rare 
and  curious  book  in  quarto  Gothic,  the  manual  of  a 
forgotten  church,  the  Vigilice  Mortuorum  secundum 
Chorum  Ecclesice  Maguntinw. 

I  could  not  help  thinking  of  the  wild  ritual  of  this 
work,  and  of  its  probable  influence  upon  the  hypo 
chondriac,  when,  one  evening,  having  informed  me 
abruptly  that  the  Lady  Madeline  was  no  more,  he 
stated  his  intention  of  preserving  her  corpse  for  a 
fortnight  (previously  to  its  final  interment)  in  one 
of  the  numerous  vaults  within  the  main  walls  of  the 
building.  The  worldly  reason,  however,  assigned 
for  this  singular  proceeding,  was  one  which  I  did 
not  feel  at  liberty  to  dispute.  The  brother  had  been 
led  to  this  resolution  (so  he  told  me)  by  consideration 

302 


FALL    OF    THE    HOUSE    OF     USHER 

of  the  unusual  character  of  the  malady  of  the  de 
ceased,  of  certain  obtrusive  and  eager  inquiries  on 
the  part  of  her  medical  men,  and  of  the  remote  and 
exposed  situation  of  the  burial-ground  of  the  family. 
I  will  not  deny  that,  when  I  called  to  mind  the  sinister 
countenance  of  the  person  whom  I  met  upon  the 
staircase  on  the  day  of  my  arrival  at  the  house,  I 
had  no  desire  to  oppose  what  I  regarded  as  at  best 
but  a  harmless,  and  by  no  means  an  unnatural 
precaution. 

At  the  request  of  Usher,  I  personally  aided  him 
in  the  arrangements  for  the  temporary  entombment. 
The  body  having  been  encoffined,  we  two  alone  bore 
it  to  its  rest.  The  vault  in  which  we  placed  it  (and 
which  had  been  so  long  unopened  that  our  torches, 
half  smothered  in  its  oppressive  atmosphere,  gave  us 
little  opportunity  for  investigation)  was  small,  damp, 
and  entirely  without  means  of  admission  for  light; 
lying,  at  great  depth,  immediately  beneath  that  por 
tion  of  the  building  in  which  was  my  own  sleeping 
apartment.  It  had  been  used,  apparently,  in  remote 
feudal  times,  for  the  worst  purposes  of  a  donjon-keep, 
and,  in  later  days,  as  a  place  of  deposit  for  powder, 
or  some  other  highly  combustible  substance,  as  a 
portion  of  its  floor  and  the  whole  interior  of  a  long 
archway  through  which  we  reached  it  were  carefully 
sheathed  with  copper.  The  door,  of  massive  iron,  had 
been,  also,  similarly  protected.  Its  immense  weight 
caused  an  unusually  sharp  grating  sound,  as  it  moved 
upon  its  hinges. 

Having  deposited  our  mournful  burden  upon  tres- 


EDGAR    ALLAN     POE 

sels  within  this  region  of  horror,  we  partially  turned 
aside  the  yet  unscrewed  lid  of  the  coffin,  and  looked 
upon  the  face  of  the  tenant.  A  striking  similitude 
between  the  brother  and  sister  now  first  arrested  my 
attention ;  and  Usher,  divining,  perhaps,  my  thoughts, 
murmured  out  some  few  words  from  which  I  learned 
that  the  deceased  and  himself  had  been  twins,  and 
that  sympathies  of  a  scarcely  intelligible  nature  had 
always  existed  between  them.  Our  glances,  however, 
rested  not  long  upon  the  dead,  for  we  could  not  regard 
her  unawed.  The  disease  which  had  thus  entombed 
the  lady  in  the  maturity  of  youth,  had  left,  as  usual 
in  all  maladies  of  a  strictly  cataleptical  character, 
the  mockery  of  a  faint  blush  upon  the  bosom  and  the 
face,  and  that  suspiciously  lingering  smile  upon  the 
lip  which  is  so  terrible  in  death.  We  replaced  and 
screwed  down  the  lid,  and,  having  secured  the  door 
of  iron,  made  our  way,  with  toil,  into  the  scarcely 
less  gloomy  apartments  of  the  upper  portion  of  the 
house. 

And  now,  some  days  of  bitter  grief  having 
elapsed,  an  observable  change  came  over  the  features 
of  the  mental  disorder  of  my  friend.  His  ordinary 
manner  had  vanished.  His  ordinary  occupations 
were  neglected  or  forgotten.  He  roamed  from 
chamber  to  chamber  with  hurried,  unequal,  and 
objectless  step.  The  pallor  of  his  countenance  had 
assumed,  if  possible,  a  more  ghastly  hue,  but  the 
luminousness  of  his  eye  had  utterly  gone  out.  The 
once  occasional  huskiness  of  his  tone  was  heard  no 
more  j  and  a  tremulous  quaver,  as  if  of  extreme  terror, 


204 


FALL    OF    THE     HOUSE    OF     USHER 

habitually  characterized  his  utterance.  There  were 
times,  indeed,  when  I  thought  his  unceasingly  agi 
tated  mind  was  laboring  with  some  oppressive  secret, 
to  divulge  which  he  struggled  for  the  necessary 
courage.  At  times,  again,  I  was  obliged  to  resolve  all 
into  the  mere  inexplicable  vagaries  of  madness,  for  I 
beheld  him  gazing  upon  vacancy  for  long  hours,  in 
an  attitude  of  the  profoundest  attention,  as  if  listen 
ing  to  some  imaginary  sound.  It  was  no  wonder  that 
his  condition  terrified,  that  it  infected  me.  I  felt 
creeping  upon  me,  by  slow  yet  certain  degrees,  the 
wild  influences  of  his  own  fantastic  yet  impressive 
superstitions. 

It  was,  especially,  upon  retiring  to  bed  late  in  the 
night  of  the  seventh  or  eighth  day  after  the  placing 
of  the  Lady  Madeline  within  the  donjon  that  I  exper 
ienced  the  full  power  of  such  feelings.  Sleep  came 
not  near  my  couch,  while  the  hours  waned  and  waned 
away.  I  struggled  to  reason  off  the  nervousness 
which  had  dominion  over  me.  I  endeavored  to  be 
lieve  that  much,  if  not  all,  of  what  I  felt  was  due  to 
the  bewildering  influence  of  the  gloomy  furniture 
of  the  room  —  of  the  dark  and  tattered  draperies 
which,  tortured  into  motion  by  the  breath  of  a  rising 
tempest,  swayed  fitfully  to  and  fro  upon  the  walls, 
and  rustled  uneasily  about  the  decorations  of  the 
bed.  But  my  efforts  were  fruitless.  An  irrepressible 
tremor  gradually  pervaded  my  frame ;  and,  at  length, 
there  sat  upon  my  very  heart  an  incubus  of  utterly 
causeless  alarm.  Shaking  this  off  with  a  gasp  and  a 
struggle,  I  uplifted  myself  upon  the  pillows,  and, 

1—20  305 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

peering  earnestly  within  the  intense  darkness  of  the 
chamber,  hearkened  (I  know  not  why,  except  that  an 
instinctive  spirit  prompted  me)  to  certain  low  and  in 
definite  sounds  which  came,  through  the  pauses  of  the 
storm,  at  long  intervals,  I  knew  not  whence.  Over 
powered  by  an  intense  sentiment  of  horror,  unac 
countable  yet  unendurable,  I  threw  on  my  clothes 
with  haste  (for  I  felt  that  I  should  sleep  no  more 
during  the  night),  and  endeavored  to  arouse  myself 
from  'the  pitiable  condition  into  which  I  had  fallen 
by  pacing  rapidly  to  and  fro  through  the  apartment. 

I  had  taken  but  a  few  turns  in  this  manner  when 
a  light  step  on  an  adjoining  staircase  arrested  my 
attention.  I  presently  recognized  it  as  that  of  Usher. 
In  an  instant  afterward  he  rapped,  with  a  gentle 
touch,  at  my  door,  and  entered,  bearing  a  lamp.  His 
countenance  was,  as  usual,  cadaverously  wan,  but 
moreover,  there  was  a  species  of  mad  hilarity  in  his 
eyes,  an  evidently  restrained  hysteria  in  his  whole  de 
meanor.  His  air  appalled  me;  but  anything  was 
preferable  to  the  solitude  which  I  had  so  long  •  en 
dured,  and  I  even  welcomed  his  presence  as  a  relief. 

"And  you  have  not  seen  it?"  he  said,  abruptly, 
after  having  stared  about  him  for  some  moments  in 
silence;  "you  have  not  then  seen  it?  —  but,  stay!  you 
shall."  Thus  speaking,  and  having  carefully  shaded 
his  lamp,  he  hurried  to  one  of  the  casements,  and 
threw  it  freely  open  to  the  storm. 

The  impetuous  fury  of  the  entering  gust  nearly 
lifted  us  from  our  feet.  It  was,  indeed,  a  tempes 
tuous  yet  sternly  beautiful  night,  and  one  wildly  sin- 

306 


FALL    OF    THE     HOUSE    OF     USHER 

gular  in  its  terror  and  its  beauty.  A  whirlwind  had 
apparently  collected  its  force  in  our  vicinity;  for 
there  were  frequent  and  violent  alterations  in  the 
direction  of  the  wind;  and  the  exceeding  density  of 
the  clouds  (which  hung  so  low  as  to  press  upon  the 
turrets  of  the  house)  did  not  prevent  our  perceiving 
the  lifelike  velocity  with 'which  they  flew  careering 
from  all  points  against  each  other,  without  passing 
away  in  the  distance.  I 'say  that  even  their  exceed 
ing  density  did  not  prevent  our  perceiving  this;  yet 
we  had  no  glimpse  of  the  moon  or  stars,  nor  was 
there  any  flashing  forth  of  the  lightning.  But  the 
under  surfaces  of  the  huge  masses  of  agitated  vapor, 
as  well  as  all  terrestrial  objects  immediately  around 
us,  were  glowing  in  the  unnatural  light  of  a  faintly 
luminous  'and  distinctly  visible  gaseous  exhalation 
which  hung  about  and  enshrouded  the  mansion. 

"You  must  not,  you  shall  not  behold  this! "  said 
I,  shuddering, '  to  Usher,  as  I  led  him,  with  a  gentle 
violence,  from  the 'window 'to  a  seat.  " These  appear 
ances,  which  bewilder  you,  are  merely  electrical  phe 
nomena,  not  uncommon;  or  it  may  be  that  they  have 
their  ghastly  origin  in  the  rank  miasma  of  the  tarn. 
Let  us  close  this  casement;  the  air  is  chilling  and 
dangerous  to  your  frame.  Here  is  one  of  your  favor 
ite  romances.  I  will  read,  and  you  shall  listen ;  and 
so  we  will  pass  away  this  terrible  night  together. " 

The  antique  volume  which  I  had  taken  up  was  the 
Mad  Trist  of  Sir  Launcelot  Canning,  but  I  had  called 
it  a  favorite'  of  Usher's  more  in  sad  jest  than  in  earn 
est;  for,  in  truth,  there  is  little  in  its  uncouth  and 

307 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

unimaginative  prolixity  which  could  have  had  in 
terest  for  the  lofty  and  spiritual  ideality  of  my  friend. 
It  was,  however,  the  only  book  immediately  at  hand; 
and  I  indulged  a  vague  hope  that  the  excitement 
which  now  agitated  the  hypochondriac  might  find 
relief  (for  the  history  of  mental  disorder  is  full  of 
similar  anomalies)  even  in  the  extremeness  of  the 
folly  which  I  should  read.  Could  I  have  judged, 
indeed,  by  the  wild  overstrained  air  of  vivacity  with 
which  he  hearkened,  or  apparently  hearkened,  to  the 
words  of  the  tale,  I  might  well  have  congratulated 
myself  upon  the  success  of  my  design. 

I  had  arrived  at  that  well-known  portion  of  the 
story  where  Ethelred,  the  hero  of  the  Trist,  having 
sought  in  vain  for  peaceable  admission  into  the  dwell 
ing  of  the  hermit,  proceeds  to  make  good  an  entrance 
by  force.  Here,  it  will  be  remembered,  the  words  of 
the  narrative  run  thus : 

"And  Ethelred,  who  was  by  nature  of  a  doughty 
heart,  and  who  was  now  mighty  withal,  on  account 
of  the  powerfulness  of  the  wine  which  he  had 
drunken,  waited  no  longer  to  hold  parley  with  the 
hermit,  who,  in  sooth,  was  of  an  obstinate  and  malice- 
ful  turn,  but,  feeling  the  rain  upon  his  shoulders,  and 
fearing  the  rising  of  the  tempest,  uplifted  his  mace 
outright,  and,  with  blows,  made  quickly  room  in  the 
plankings  of  the  door  for  his  gauntleted  hand;  and 
now  pulling  therewith  sturdily,  he  so  cracked,  and 
ripped,  and  tore  all  asunder,  that  the  noise  of  the 
dry  and  hollow-sounding  wood  alarumed  and  rever 
berated  throughout  the  forest/' 

508 


FALL    OF    THE     HOUSE    OF    USHER 

At  the  termination  of  this  sentence  I  started  and, 
for  a  moment,  paused;  for  it  appeared  to  me  (al 
though  I  at  once  concluded  that  my  excited  fancy 
had  deceived  me)  — it  appeared  to  me  that,  from  some 
very  remote  portion  of  the  mansion,  there  came,  indis 
tinctly  to  my  ears,  what  might  have  been,  in  its  exact 
similarity  of  character,  the  echo  (but  a  stifled  and  dull 
one,  certainly)  of  the  very  cracking  and  ripping 
sound  which  Sir  Launcelot  had  so  particularly 
described.  It  was,  beyond  doubt,  the  coincidence 
alone  which  had  arrested  my  attention ;  for,  amid  the 
rattling  of  the  sashes  of  the  casements,  and  the  ordi 
nary  commingled  noises  of  the  still  increasing  storm, 
the  sound,  in  itself,  had  nothing,  surely,  which  should 
have  interested  or  disturbed  me.  I  continued  the 
story : 

"But  the  good  champion  Ethelred,  now  entering 
within  the  door,  was  sore  enraged  and  amazed  to 
perceive  no  signal  of  the  maliceful  hermit ;  but,  in  the 
stead  thereof,  a  dragon  of  a  scaly  and  prodigious 
demeanor,  and  of  a  fiery  tongue,  which  sate  in  guard 
before  a  palace  of  gold,  with  a  floor  of  silver;  and 
upon  the  wall  there  hung  a  shield  of  shining  brass 
with  this  legend  enwritten: 

Who  entereth  herein,  a  conqueror  hath  bin; 
Who  slayeth  the  dragon,  the  shield  he  shall  win. 

And  Ethelred  uplifted  his  mace,  and  struck  upon 
the  head  of  the  dragon,  which  fell  before  him,  and 
gave  up  his  pesty  breath,  with  a  shriek  so  horrid  and 

309 


EDGAR  ALLAN  POE 

harsh,  and  withal  so  piercing,  that  Ethelred  had  fain 
to  close  his  ears  with  his  hands  against  the  dreadful 
noise  of  it,  the  like  whereof  was  never  before  heard." 

Here  again  I  paused  abruptly,  and  now  with  a 
feeling  of  wild  amazement;  for  there  could  be  no 
doubt  whatever  that,  in  this  instance,  I  did  actually 
hear  (although  from  what  direction  it  proceeded  I 
found  it  impossible  to  say)  a  low  and  apparently 
distant,  but  harsli,  protracted,  and  most  unusual 
screaming  or  grating  sound,  the  exact  counterpart  of 
what  my  fancy  had  already  conjured  up  for  the 
dragon's  unnatural  shriek  as  described  by  the  ro 
mancer. 

Oppressed,  as  I  certainly  was,  upon  the  occur 
rence  of  this  second  and  most  extraordinary  coinci 
dence,  by  a  thousand  conflicting  sensations,  in  which 
wonder  and  extreme  terror  were  predominant,  I  still 
retained  sufficient  presence  of  mind  to  avoid  excit 
ing,  by  any  observation,  the  sensitive  nervousness  of 
my  companion.  I  was  by  no  means  certain  that  he 
had  noticed  the  sounds  in  question ;  although,  assur 
edly,  a  strange  alteration  had,  during  the  last  few 
minutes,  taken  place  in  his  demeanor.  From  a  posi 
tion  fronting  my  own,  he  had  gradually  brought 
round  his  chair,  so  as  to  sit  with  his  face  to  the  door 
of  the  chamber;  and  thus  I  could  but  partially  per 
ceive  his  features,  although  I  saw  that  his  lips  trem 
bled  as  if  he  were  murmuring  inaudibly.  His  head 
had  dropped  upon  his  breast,  yet  I  knew  that  he  was 
not  asleep,  from  the  wide  and  rigid  opening  of  the 
eye  as  I  caught  a  glance  of  it  in  "profile.  The  motion 

310 


FALL    OF    THE     HOUSE     OF    USHER 

of  his  body,  too,  was  at  variance  with  this  idea,  for 
he  rocked  from  side  to  side  with  a  gentle  yet  constant 
and  uniform  sway.  Having  rapidly  taken  notice 
of  all  this,  I  resumed  the  narrative  of  Sir  Launcelot, 
which  thus  proceeded: 

"And  now,  the  champion,  having  escaped  from 
the  terrible  fury  of  the  dragon,  bethinking  himself 
of  the  brazen  shield,  and  of  the  breaking  up  of  the 
enchantment  which  was  upon  it,  removed  the  carcass 
from  out  of  the  way  before  him,  and  approached 
valorously  over  the  silver  pavement  of  the  castle  to 
where- the  shield  was  upon  the  wall;  which  in  sooth 
tarried  not  his  full  coming,  but  fell  down  at  his 
feet  upon  the  silver  floor,  with  a  mighty  great  and 
terrible  ringing  sound." 

No  sooner  had  these  syllables  passed  my  lips  than, 
as  if  a  shield  of  brass  had  indeed,  at  the  moment, 
fallen  heavily  upon  a  floor  of  silver,  I  became  aware 
of  a  distinct,  hollow,  metallic,  and  clangorous,  yet 
apparently  muffled,  reverberation.  Completely  un 
nerved,  f  leaped  to  my  feet;  but  the  measured  rock 
ing  movement  of  Usher  was  undisturbed.  I  rushed 
to  the  chair  in  which  he  sat.  His  eyes  were  bent 
fixedly  before  him,  and  throughout  his  whole  coun 
tenance  there  reigned  a  stony  rigidity.  But,  as  I 
placed  my  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  there  came  a 
strong  shudder  over  his  whole  person,  a  sickly  smile 
quivered  about  his  lips,  and  I  saw  that  he  spoke  in 
a  low,  hurried,  and  gibbering  murmur,  as  if  uncon 
scious  of  my  presence.  Bending  closely  over  him,  I 
at  length  drank  in  the  hideous  import  of  his  words. 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 


1 t 


:Not  hear  it?  —  yes,  I  hear  it,  and  HAVE  heard 
it.  Long  —  long  —  long  —  many  minutes,  many 
hours,  many  days,  have  I  heard  it,  yet  I  dared  not  — 
oh,  pity  me,  miserable  wretch  that  I  am !  —  I  dared 
not,  I  DARED  not  speak !  WE  HAVE  PUT  HER  LIVING 
IN  THE  TOMB  !  Said  I  not  that  my  senses  were  acute  ? 
I  NOW  tell  you  that  I  heard  her  first  feeble  movements 
in  the  hollow  coffin.  I  heard  them,  many,  many  days 
ago,  yet  I  dared  not,  I  DARED  NOT  SPEAK!  And  now 
—  to-night  —  Ethelred  —  ha!  ha!  —  the  breaking  of 
the  hermit's  door,  and  the  death-cry  of  the  dragon, 
and  the  clangor  of  the  shield, —  say,  rather,  the 
rending  of  her  coffin,  and  the  grating  of  the  iron 
hinges  of  her  prison,  and  her  struggles  within  the 
coppered  archway  of  the  vault!  Oh!  whither  shall  I 
fly?  Will  she  not  be  here  anon?  Is  she  not  hurrying 
to  upbraid  me  for  my  haste?  Have  I  not  heard  her 
footstep  on  the  stair  ?  Do  I  not  distinguish  that  heavy 
and  horrible  beating  of  her  heart?  Madman!" — 
here  he  sprang  furiously  to  his  feet,  and  shrieked 
out  his  syllables,  as  if  in  the  effort  he  were  giving 
up  his  soul  — ' '  Madman !  I  tell  you  that  she  now 
stands  without  the  door." 

As  if  in  superhuman  energy  of  his  utterance  there 
had  been  found  the  potency  of  a  spell,  the  huge 
antique  panels  to  which  the  speaker  pointed,  threw 
slowly  back,  upon  the  instant,  their  ponderous  and 
ebony  jaws.  It  was  the  work  of  the  rushing  gust,  but 
then  without  those  doors  there  DID  stand  the  lofty 
and  enshrouded  figure  of  the  Lady  Madeline  of  Usher. 
There  was  blood  upon  her  white  robes,  and  the 

312 


FALL    OF    THE     HOUSE     OF     USHER 

evidence  of  some  bitter  struggle  upon  every  portion 
of  her  emaciated  frame.  For  a  moment  she  remained 
trembling  and  reeling  to  and  fro  upon  the  threshold ; 
then,  with  a  low  moaning  cry,  fell  heavily  inward 
upon  the  person  of  her  brother,  and  in  her  violent  and 
now  final  death-agonies,  bore  him  to  the  floor  a 
corpse,  and  a  victim  to  the  terrors  he  had  anticipated. 
From  that  chamber,  and  from  that  mansion,  I  fled 
aghast.  The  storm  was  still  abroad  in  all  its  wrath 
as  I  found  myself  crossing  the  old  causeway.  Sud 
denly  there  shot  along  the  path  a  wild  light,  and  I 
turned  to  see  whence  a  gleam  so  unusual  could  have 
issued ;  for  the  vast  house  and  its  shadows  were  alone 
behind  me.  The  radiance  was  that  of  the  full,  setting, 
and  blood-red  moon,  which  now  shone  vividly  through 
that  once  barely  discernible  fissure,  of  which  I  have 
before  spoken  as  extending  from  the  roof  of  the 
building,  in  a  zigzag  direction,  to  the  base.  While 
I  gazed,  this  fissure  rapidly  widened,  there  came  a 
fierce  breath  of  the  whirlwind,  the  entire  orb 
of  the  satellite  burst  at  once  upon  my  sight,  my 
brain  reeled  as  I  saw  the  mighty  walls  rushing 
asunder,  there  was  a  long  tumultuous  shouting  sound 
like  the  voice  of  a  thousand  waters,  and  the  deep 
and  dank  tarn  at  my  feet  closed  sullenly  and  silently 
over  the  fragments  of  the  "  HOUSE  OF  USHER.  " 


313 


THE    MAN    THAT  WAS   USED    UP 


A  TALE   OF   THE   LATE   BUGABOO  AND 
KICKAPOO   CAMPAIGN 

Pleurez,  pleurez,  mes  yeux,  et  fondez-vous  en  eau! 
La  moitie  de  ma  vie  a  mis  Vautre  au  tombeau. 

COBNEILLE. 


i 


CANNOT  just  now  remember  when  or  where 
I  first  made  the  acquaintance  of  that 
truly  fine-looking  fellow,  Brevet  Brig 
adier-General  John  A.  B.  C.  Smith. 
Some  one  DID  introduce  me  to  the 
gentleman,  I  am  sure  —  at  some  public  meeting,  I 
know  very  well,  held  about  something  of  great  impor 
tance,  no  doubt,  at  some  place  or  other,  I  feel  con 
vinced,  whose  name  I  have  unaccountably  forgotten. 
The  truth  is  that  the  introduction  was  attended,  upon 
my  part,  with  a  degree  of  anxious  embarrassment 
which  operated  to  prevent  any  definite  impressions 
of  either  time  or  place.  I  am  constitutionally  nerv 
ous;  this,  with  me,  is  a  family  failing,  and  I  can't 
help  it.  In  especial,  the  slightest  appearance  of  mys 
tery,  of  any  point  I  cannot  exactly  comprehend,  puts 
me  at  once  into  a  pitiable  state  of  agitation. 

There  was  something,  as  it  were,  remarkable  — 
yes,  REMARKABLE,  although  this  is  but  a  feeble  term 
to  express  my  full  meaning  —  about  the  entire  individ- 

3M 


THE    MAN    THAT    WAS    USED    UP 

uality  of  the  personage  in  question.  He  was,  perhaps, 
six  feet  in  height,  and  of  a  presence  singularly  com 
manding.  There  was  an  air  distingue  pervading  the 
whole  man,  which  spoke  of  high  breeding,  and  hinted 
at  high  birth.  Upon  this  topic,  the  topic  of  Smith's 
personal  appearance,  I  have  a  kind  of  melancholy 
satisfaction  in  being  minute.  His  head  of  hair  would 
have  done  honor  to  a  Brutus ;  nothing  could  be  more 
richly  flowing,  or  possess  a  brighter  gloss.  It  was  of 
a  jetty  black ;  which  was  also  the  color,  or  more  prop 
erly  the  no  color,  of  his  unimaginable  whiskers. 
You  perceive  I  cannot  speak  of  these  latter  with 
out  enthusiasm;  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  they 
were  the  handsomest  pair  of  whiskers  under  the  sun. 
At  all  events,  they  encircled,  and  at  times  partially 
overshadowed,  a  mouth  utterly  unequalled.  Here 
were  the  most  entirely  even,  and  the  most  brilliantly 
white  of  all  conceivable  teeth.  From  between  them, 
upon  every  proper  occasion,  issued  a  voice  of  sur 
passing  clearness,  melody,  and  strength.  In  the 
matter  of  eyes,  also,  my  acquaintance  was  pre-emi 
nently  endowed.  Either  one  of  such  a  pair  was  worth 
a  couple  of  the  ordinary  ocular  organs.  They  were  of 
a  deep  hazel,  exceedingly  large  and  lustrous;  and 
there  was  perceptible  about  them,  ever  and  anon,  just 
that  amount  of  interesting  obliquity  which  gives  preg 
nancy  to  expression. 

The  bust  of  the  General  was  unquestionably  the 
finest  bust  I  ever  saw.  For  your  life  you  could  not 
have  found  fault  with  its  wonderful  proportion.  This 
rare  peculiarity  set  off  to  great  advantage  a  pair  of 

315 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

shoulders  which  would  have  called  up  a  blush  of 
conscious  inferiority  into  the  countenance  of  the 
marble  Apollo.  I  have  a  passion  for  fine  shoulders, 
and  may  say  that  I  never  beheld  them  in  per 
fection  before.  The  arms  altogether  were  admirably 
modelled.  Nor  were  the  lower  limbs  less  superb. 
These  were,  indeed,  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  good  legs. 
Every  connoisseur  in  such  matters  admitted  the  legs 
to  be  good.  There  was  neither  too  much  flesh  nor 
too  little,  neither  rudeness  nor  fragility.  I  could 
not  imgaine  a  more  graceful  curve  than  that  of  the 
os  femoris,  and  there  was  just  that  due  gentle  prom 
inence  in  the  rear  of  the  fibula  which  goes  to  the  con 
formation  of  a  properly  proportioned  calf.  I  wish 
to  God  my  young  and  talented  friend  Chiponchipino, 
the  sculptor,  had  but  seen  the  legs  of  Brevet  Brigadier- 
General  John  A.  B.  C.  Smith. 

But  although  men  so  absolutely  fine-looking  are 
neither  as  plenty  as  reasons  or  blackberries,  still  I 
could  not  bring  myself  to  believe  that  THE  REMARK 
ABLE  something  to  which  I  alluded  just  now  —  that 
the  odd  air  of  je  ne  sals  quoi  which  hung  about  my  new 
acquaintance, —  lay  altogether,  or  indeed  at  all,  in 
the  supreme  excellence  of  his  bodily  endowments. 
Perhaps  it  might  be  traced  to  the  manner;  yet  here 
again  I  could  not  pretend  to  be  positive.  There  was 
a  primness,  not  to  say  stiffness,  in  his  carriage;  a 
degree  of  measured  and,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  of  rec 
tangular  precision  attending  his  every  movement, 
which,  observed  in  a  more  diminutive  figure,  would 
have  had  the  least  little  savor  in  the  world  of  affecta- 

3.6 


THE    MAN    THAT    WAS    USED    UP 

tion,  pomposity,  or  constraint,  but  which,  noticed  in 
a  gentleman  of  his  undoubted  dimensions,  was  readily 
placed  to  the  account  of  reserve,  hauteur-,  of  a  com 
mendable  sense,  in  short,  of  what  is  due  to  the  dignity 
of  colossal  proportion. 

The  kind  friend  who  presented  me  to  General 
Smith  whispered  in  my  ear  some  few  words  of  com 
ment  upon  the  man.  He  was  a  REMARKABLE  man,  a 
VERY  remarkable  man;  indeed,  one  of  the  most  re 
markable  men  of  the  age.  He  was  an  especial  favorite, 
too,  with  the  ladies,  chiefly  on  account  of  his  high 
reputation  for  courage. 

"In  THAT  point  he  is  unrivalled;  indeed,  he  is  a 
perfect  desperado,  a  downright  fire-eater,  and  no 
mistake,'*  said  my  friend,  here  dropping  his  voice 
excessively  low,  and  thrilling  me  with  the  mystery 
of  his  tone. 

"A  downright  fire-eater,  and  NO  mistake.  Showed 
THAT,  I  should  say,  to  some  purpose,  in  the  late  tre 
mendous  swamp-fight,  away  down  South,  with  the 
Bugaboo  and  Kickapoo  Indians.  [Here  my  friend 
opened  his  eyes  to  some  extent.]  Bless  my  soul! 
blood  and  thunder,  and  all  that!  PRODIGIES  of  valor! 
heard  of  him,  of  course  ?  you  know  he 's  the  man  - 

"Man  alive,  how  DO  you  do?  why,  how  ARE  ye? 
VERY  glad  to  see  ye,  indeed!"  here  interrupted  the 
General  himself,  seizing  my  companion  by  the  hand 
as  he  drew  near,  and  bowing  stiffly  but  profoundly  as 
I  was  presented.  I  then  thought  (and  I  think  so  still) 
that  I  never  heard  a  clearer  nor  a  stronger  voice,  nor 
beheld  a  finer  set  of  teeth :  but  I  MUST  say  that  I  was 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

sorry  for  the  interruption  Just  at  that  moment,  as, 
owing  to  the  whispers  and  insinuations  aforesaid,  my 
interest  had  been  greatly  excited  in  the  hero  of  the 
Bugaboo  and  Kickapoo  campaign. 

However,  the  delightfully  luminous  conversation 
of  Brevet  Brigadier-General  John  A.  B.  C.  Smith  soon 
completely  dissipated  this  chagrin.  My  friend  leaving 
us  immediately,  we  had  quite  a  long  tete-a-tete;  and  I 
was  not  only  pleased  but  really  instructed.  I  never 
heard  a  more  fluent  talker,  or  a  man  of  greater  gen 
eral  information.  With  becoming  modesty,  he  for 
bore,  nevertheless,  to  touch  upon  the  theme  I  had 
just  then  most  at  heart:  I  mean  the  mysterious  cir 
cumstances  attending  the  Bugaboo  War;  and,  on  my 
own  part,  what  I  conceive  to  be  a  proper  sense  of 
delicacy  forbade  me  to  broach  the  subject;  although, 
in  truth,  I  was  exceedingly  tempted  to  do  so.  I 
perceived,  too,  that  the  gallant  soldier  preferred 
topics  of  philosophical  interest,  and  that  he  delighted, 
especially,  in  commenting  upon  the  rapid  march  of 
mechanical  invention.  Indeed,  lead  him  where  I 
would,  this  was  a  point  to  which  he  invariably  came 
back. 

"There  is  nothing  at  all  like  it,"  he  would  say; 
"we  are  a  wonderful  people,  and  live  in  a  wonderful 
age.  Parachutes  and  railroads,  man-traps  and  spring- 
guns!  Our  steamboats  are  upon  every  sea,  and  the 
Nassau  balloon  packet  is  about  to  run  regular  trips 
(fare  either  way  only  twenty  pounds  sterling)  be 
tween  London  and  Timbuctoo.  And  who  shall  calcu 
late  the  immense  influence  upon  social  life,  upon  arts, 

318 


^>>o 


THE    MAN    THAT    WAS    USED    UP 

upon  commerce,  upon  literature,  which  will  be  the 
immediate  result  of  the  great  principles  of  electro 
magnetics  !  Nor  is  this  all,  let  me  assure  you !  There 
is  really  no  end  to  the  march  of  invention.  ;  The 
most  wonderful,  the  most  ingenious,  and  let  me  add, 
Mr. —  Mr. —  Thompson,  I  believe,  is  your  name  —  let 
me  add,  I  say,  the  most  USEFUL,  the  most  truly 
USEFUL,  mechanical  contrivances  are  daily  spring 
ing  up  like  mushrooms,  if  I  may  so  express  myself, 
or,  more  figuratively,  like  • —  ah  —  grasshoppers  — 
like  grasshoppers,  Mr.  Thompson  —  about  us  and  ah 
—  ah  —  ah  —  around  us ! 

Thompson,  to  be  sure,  is  not  my  name ;  but  it  is 
needless  to  say  that  I  left  General  Smith  with  a 
heightened  interest  in  the  man,  with  an  exalted 
opinion  of  his  conversational  powers,  and  a  deep 
sense  of  the  valuable  privileges  we  enjoy  in  living  in 
this  age  of  mechanical  invention.  My  curiosity,  how 
ever,  had  not  been  altogether  satisfied,  and  I  resolved 
to  prosecute  immediate  inquiry  among  my  acquaint 
ances  touching  the  Brevet  Brigadier-General  himself, 
and  particularly  respecting  the  tremendous  events 
quorum  pars  magna  fuit,  during  the  Bugaboo  and 
Kickapoo  campaign. 

The  first  opportunity  which  presented  itself,  and 
which  (horresco  referens)  I  did  not  in  the  least  scruple 
to  seize,  occurred  at  the  Church  of  the  Reverend 
Doctor  Drummummupp,  where  I  found  myself  es 
tablished,  one  Sunday,  just  at  sermon  time,  not  only 
in  the  pew,  but  by  the  side  of  that  worthy  and  com 
municative  little  friend  of  mine,  Miss  Tabitha  T. 

319 


/ 

O 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

Thus  seated,  I  congratulated  myself,  and  with  much 
reason,  upon  the  very  nattering  state  of  affairs.  If 
any  person  knew  anything  about  Brevet  Brigadier- 
General  John  A.  B.  C.  Smith,  that  person,  it  was  clear 
to  me,  was  Miss  Tabitha  T.  We  telegraphed  a  few 
signals  and  then  commenced,  sotto  voce,  a  brisk 
tete-a-tete. 

" Smith  I"  said  she,  in  reply  to  my  very  earnest 
inquiry;  "Smith!  why,  not  General  A.  B.  C.  ?  Bless 
me,  I  thought  you  KNEW  all  about  HIM!  This  is  a 
wonderfully  inventive  age !  Horrid  affair  that !  —  a 
bloody  set  of  wretches,  those  Kickapoos !  —  fought  like 
a  hero  —  prodigies  of  valor  —  immortal  renown. 
Smith !  —  Brevet  Brigadier-General  John  A.  B.  C. ! 
• — why,  you  know  he's  the  man " 

"Man,"  here  broke  in  Doctor  Drummummupp,  at 
the  top  of  his  voice,  and  with  a  thump  that  came  near 
knocking  the  pulpit  about  our  ears,  "man  that  is 
born  of  a  woman  hath  but  a  short  time  to  live;  he 
cometh  up  and  is  cut  down  like  a  flower !"  I  started 
to  the  extremity  of  the  pew,  and  perceived  by  the 
animated  looks  of  the  divine  that  the  wrath  which 
had  nearly  proved  fatal  to  the  pulpit  had  been  excited 
by  the  whispers  of  the  lady  and  myself.  There  was 
no  help  for  it ;  so  I  submitted  with  a  good  grace,  and 
listened,  in  all  the  martyrdom  of  dignified  silence,  to 
the  balance  of  that  very  capital  discourse. 

Next  evening  found  me  a  somewhat  late  visitor 
at  the  Rantipole  Theatre,  where  I  felt  sure  of  satisfy 
ing  my  curiosity  at  once,  by  merely  stepping  into 
the  box  of  those  exquisite  specimens  of  affability  and 


THE    MAN    THAT    WAS    USED    UP 

omniscience,  the  Misses  Arabella  and  Miranda  Cogno 
scenti.  That  fine  tragedian,  Climax,  was  doing  lago 
to  a  very  crowded  house,  and  I  experienced  some 
little  difficulty  in  making  my  wishes  understood;  es 
pecially  as  our  box  was  next  the  slips,  and  completely 
overlooked  the  stage. 

" Smith!"  said  Miss  Arabella,  as  she  at  length 
comprehended  the  purport  of  my  query;  "Smith! 
why,  not  General  John  A.  B.  C.?" 

"Smith!"  inquired  Miranda,  musingly.  "God 
bless  me,  did  you  ever  behold  a  finer  figure?" 

"Never,  madam,  but  DO  tell  me " 

"Or  so  inimitable  grace?" 

"Never,  upon  my  word!  But  pray,  inform 
me " 

"Or  so  just  an  appreciation  of  stage  effect?" 

"Madam!" 

"Or  a  more  delicate  sense  of  the  true  beauties 
of  Shakespeare?  Be  so  good  as  to  look  at  that  leg!" 

"The  devil!"  and  I  turned  again  to  her  sister. 

"Smith!"  said  she,  "why,  not  General  John  A. 
B.  C.?  Horrid  affair  that,  wasn't  it?  — great 
wretches,  those  Bugaboos  —  savage,  and  so  on  —  but 
we  live  in  a  wonderfully  inventive  age!  —  Smith! 
—  Oh  yes !  great  man !  —  perfect  desperado ! —  immor 
tal  renown !  — •  prodigies  of  valor !  NEVER  HEARD  ! ' ' 
(This  was  given  in  a  scream.)  "Bless  my  soul!  — 
why  he's  the  man— *" 

' ' —  mandragora 
Nor  all  the  drowsy  syrups  of  the  world 

I— 21  321 


0 


EDGAR    ALLAN     POE 

Shall  ever  medicine  thee  to  that  sweet  sleep 
"Which  thou  owedst  yesterday!  " 

here  roared  out  Climax  just  in  my  ear,  and  shaking 
his  fist  in  my  face  all  the  time  in  a  way  that  I  couldn  't 
stand,  and  I  wouldn't.  I  left  the  Misses  Cognoscenti 
immediately,  went  behind  the  scenes  forthwith,  and 
gave  the  beggarly  scoundrel  such  a  thrashing  as  I 
trust  he  will  remember  till  the  day  of  his  death. 

At  the  soiree  of  the  lovely  widow,  Mrs.  Kathleen 
0 'Trump,  I  was  confident  that  I  should  meet  with 
no  similiar  disappointment.  Accordingly,  I  was  no 
sooner  seated  at  the  card-table,  with  my  pretty  hostess 
for  a  vis-a-vis,  than  I  propounded  those  questions  the 
solution  of  which  had  become  a  matter  so  essential 
to  my  peace. 

" Smith!"  said  my  partner,  "why,  not  General 
John  A.  B.  C.?  Horrid  affair  that,  wasn't  it?  —  dia 
monds  did  you  say? — -terrible  wretches,  those  Kicka- 
poos ! —  we  are  playing  whist,  if  you  please,  Mr.  Tattle 

—  however,  this  is  the  age  of  invention,  most  cer 
tainly  THE  age,  one  may  say  —  THE  age  par  excellence 

—  speak  French  ?  —  oh,  quite  a  hero  —  perfect  desper 
ado! — NO  HEARTS,  Mr.  Tattle?    I  don't  believe  it  — 
immortal  renown  and  all  that  —  prodigies  of  valor! 
NEVER  HEARD  !    ! —  why,  bless  me,  he  's  the  man  — 

"Mann! — CAPTAIN  Mann!"  here  screamed  some 
little  feminine  interloper  from  the  farthest  corner  of 
the  room.  "Are  you  talking  about  Captain  Mann 
and  the  duel  ? —  oh,  I  MUST  hear  —  do  tell  —  go  on, 
Mrs.  0 'Trump! — do  now  go  on!"  And  go  on  Mrs. 

322 


THE    MAN    THAT    WAS    USED    UP 

0  'Trump  did  —  all  about  a  certain  Captain  Mann, 
who  was  either  shot  or  hung,  or  should  have  been 
both  shot  and  hung.  Yes!  Mrs.  0 'Trump,  she  went 
on,  and  I — I  went  off.  There  was  no  chance  of 
hearing  anything  further  that  evening  in  regard  to 
Brevet  Brigadier-General  John  A.  B.  C.  Smith. 

Still  I  consoled  myself  with  the  reflection  that  the 
tide  of  ill-luck  would  not  run  against  me  forever,  and 
so  determined  to  make  a  bold  push  for  information 
at  the  rout  of  that  bewitching  little  angel,  the  grace 
ful  Mrs.  Pirouette. 

" Smith!"  said  Mrs.  P.,  as  we  twirled  about  to 
gether  in  a  pas  de  zephyr,  t '  Smith ! —  why,  not  General 
John  A.  B.  C.  ?  Dreadful  business  that  of  the  Buga 
boos,  wasn't  it? — dreadful  creatures,  those  Indians! 
—  DO  turn  out  your  toes !  I  really  am  ashamed  of  you 
—  man  of  great  courage,  poor  fellow !  —  but  this  is 
a  wonderful  age  for  invention  —  Oh,  dear  me,  I  'm 
out  of  breath  —  quite  a  desperado  —  prodigies  of 
valor  —  NEVER  HEARD  ! —  can't  believe  it  —  I  shall 
have  to  sit  down  and  enlighten  you  —  Smith !  why 
he 's  the  man  — 

' ' Man-Fred,  I  tell  you!"  here  bawled  out  Miss 
Bas-Bleu,  as  I  led  Mrs.  Pirouette  to  a  seat.  "Did 
ever  anybody  hear  the  like?  It  's  ~NLan-Frcd,  I  say, 
and  not  at  all  by  any  means  Wan-Friday. "  Here 
Miss  Bas-Bleu  beckoned  to  me  in  a  very  peremptory 
manner;  and  I  was  obliged,  will  I  nill  I,  to  leave 
Mrs.  P.  for  the  purpose  of  deciding  a  dispute  touch 
ing  the  title  of  a  certain  poetical  drama  of  Lord 
Byron's.  Although  I  pronounced,  with  great  prompt- 

323 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

ness,  that  the  true  title  was  Man-Friday,  and  not  by 
any  means  Man-Fred,  yet  when  I  returned  to  seek 
Mrs.  Pirouette  she  was  not  to  be  discovered,  and  I 
made  my  retreat  from  the  house  in  a  very  bitter  spirit 
of  animosity  against  the  whole  race  of  the  Bas-Bleus. 

Matters  had  now  assumed  a  really  serious  aspect, 
and  I  resolved  to  call  at  once  upon  my  particular 
friend,  Theodore  Sinivate;  for  I  knew  that  here  at 
least  I  should  get  something  like  definite  informa 
tion. 

' '  Smith ! ' '  said  he,  in  his  well-known  peculiar  way 
of  drawling  out  his  syllables ;  * '  Smith !  —  why,  not 
General  John  A.  B.  C.?  Savage  affair  that  with  the 
Kickapo-o-o-os,  wasn't  it?  Say,  don't  you  think  so? 
—  perfect  despera-a-ado  —  great  pity,  'pon  my 
honor! — wonderfully  inventive  age! —  pro-o-odigies 
of  valor !  By  the  by,  did  you  ever  hear  about  Captain 
Ma-a-a-a-n?" 

11  Captain  Mann  be  d  —  d!"  said  I;  "please  to  go 
on  with  your  story." 

' '  Hem !  —  oh  well !  —  quite  la  meme  cho-o-ose,  as  we 
say  in  France.  Smith,  eh?  Brigadier-General  John 
A  —  B  —  C.  ?  I  say" —  (here  Mr.  S*  thought  proper 
to  put  his  finger  to  the  side  of  his  nose)  — "I  say, 
you  don't  mean  to  insinuate  now,  really  and  truly, 
and  conscientiously,  that  you  don't  know  all  about 
that  affair  of  Smith's  as  well  as  I  do,  eh?  Smith? 
John  A  — B  —  C.?  Why,  bless  me,  he's  the 
ma-a-an " 

"Mr.  Sinivate,"  said  I,  imploringly,  "is  he  the 
man  in  the  mask  ? ' ' 

324 


THE    MAN    THAT    WAS    USED    UP 

"No-o-o!"  said  he,  looking  wise,  "nor  the  man  in 
the  mo-o-on." 

This  reply  I  considered  a  pointed  and  positive 
insult,  and  so  left  the  house  at  once  in  high  dudgeon, 
with  a  firm  resolve  to  call  my  friend,  Mr.  Sinivate, 
to  a  speedy  account  for  his  ungentlemanly  conduct 
and  ill-breeding. 

In  the  meantime,  however,  I  had  no  notion  of  being 
thwarted  touching  the  information  I  desired.  There 
was  one  resource  left  me  yet.  I  would  go  to  the 
fountain-head.  I  would  call  forthwith  upon  the  Gen 
eral  himself,  and  demand,  in  explicit  terms,  a  solu 
tion  of  his  abominable  piece  of  mystery.  Here,  at 
least,  there  should  be  no  chance  of  equivocation.  I 
would  be  plain,  positive,  peremptory ;  as  short  as  pie 
crust,  as  concise  as  Tacitus  or  Montesquieu. 

It  was  early  when  I  called,  and  the  General  was 
dressing,  but  I  pleaded  urgent  business,  and  was 
shown  at  once  into  his  bedroom  by  an  old  negro  valet, 
who  remained  in  attendance  during  my  visit.  As  I 
entered  the  chamber,  I  looked  about,  of  course,  for  the 
occupant,  but  did  not  immediately  perceive  him. 
There  was  a  large  and  exceedingly  odd-looking 
bundle  of  something  which  lay  close  by  my  feet  on 
the  floor,  and,  as  I  was  not  in  the  best  humor  in  the 
world,  I  gave  it  a  kick  out  of  the  way. 

"Hem!  ahem!  rather  civil  that,  I  should  say!" 
said  the  bundle,  in  one  of  the  smallest,  and  alto 
gether  the  funniest  little  voices,  between  a  squeak 
and  a  whistle,  that  I  ever  heard  in  all  the  days  of 
my  existence. 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

"Ahem!  rather  civil  that,  I  should  observe." 

I  fairly  shouted  with  terror,  and  made  off,  at  a 
tangent,  into  the  farthest  extremity  of  the  room. 

"God  bless  me,  my  dear  fellow!"  here  again 
whistled  the  bundle,  *  *  what  —  what  —  what  —  why, 
what  is  the  matter?  I  really  believe  you  don't  know 
me  at  all." 

What  COULD  I  say  to  all  this?  what  COULD  I?  I 
staggered  into  an  armchair,  and,  with  staring  eyes 
and  open  mouth,  awaited  the  solution  of  the  wonder. 

"Strange  you  shouldn't  know  me,  though,  isn't 
it?"  presently  re-squeaked  the  nondescript,  which  I 
now  perceived  was  performing  upon  the  floor  some 
inexplicable  evolution,  very  analogous  to  the  drawing 
on  of  a  stocking.  There  was  only  a  single  leg,  how 
ever,  apparent. 

"Strange  you  shouldn't  know  me  though,  isn't 
it?  Pompey,  bring  me  that  leg!"  Here  Pompey 
handed  the  bundle  a  very  capital  cork  leg,  already 
dressed,  which  it  screwed  on  in  a  trice ;  and  then  it 
stood  up  before  my  eyes. 

"And  a  bloody  action  it  was,"  continued  the 
thing,  as  if  in  a  soliloquy;  "but  then  one  mustn't 
fight  with  the  Bugaboos  and  Kickapoos,  and  think  of 
coming  off  with  a  mere  scratch.  Pompey,  I'll  thank 
you  now  for  that  arm.  Thomas"  (turning  to  me)  "is 
decidedly  the  best  hand  at  a  cork  leg;  but  if  you 
should  ever  want  an  arm,  my  dear  fellow,  you  must 
really  let  me  recommend  you  to  Bishop."  Here 
Pompey  screwed  on  an  arm. 

"We  had  rather  hot  work  of  it,  that  you  may  say. 


THE    MAN    THAT    WAS     USED    UP 

Now,  you  dog,  slip  on  my  shoulders  and  bosom. 
Pettit  makes  the  best  shoulders,  but  for  a  bosom  you 
will  have  to  go  to  Ducrow." 

"Bosom!"  said  I. 

"Pompey,  will  you  never  be  ready  with  that  wig? 
Scalping  is  a  rough  process,  after  all;  but  then  you 
can  procure  such  a  capital  scratch  at  De  L'Orme's." 

"Scratch!" 

"Now,  you  nigger,  my  teeth!  For  a  good  set  of 
these  you  had  better  go  to  Parmly's  at  once;  high 
prices,  but  excellent  work.  I  swallowed  some  very 
capital  articles,  though,  when  the  big  Bugaboo  ram 
med  me  down  with  the  butt  end  of  his  rifle. ' ' 

' '  Butt  end !  ram  down ! !  my  eye ! ! " 

"Oh,  yes,  by  the  by,  my  eye!  Here,  Pompey, 
you  scamp,  screw  it  in!  Those  Kickapoos  are  not 
so  very  slow  at  a  gouge,  he  's  a  belied  man, 
that  Dr.  Williams,  after  all;  you  can't  imagine  how 
well  I  see  with  the  eyes  of  his  make. ' ' 

I  now  began  very  clearly  to  perceive  that  the 
object  before  me  was  nothing  more  or  less  than  my 
new  acquaintance,  Brevet  Brigadier-General  John  A. 
B.  C.  Smith.  The  manipulations  of  Pompey  had 
made,  I  must  confess,  a  very  striking  difference  in 
the  personal  appearance  of  the  man.  The  voice, 
however,  still  puzzled  me  no  little;  but  even  this 
apparent  mystery  was  speedily  cleared  up. 

"Pompey,  you  black  rascal,"  squeaked  the  Gen 
eral,  "I  really  do  believe  you  would  let  me  go  with 
out  my  palate." 

Hereupon  the  negro,  grumbling  out  an  apology, 

327 


EDGAR    ALLAN    POE 

went  up  to  his  master,  opened  his  mouth  with  the 
knowing  air  of  a  horse^jockey,  and  adjusted  therein 
a  somewhat  singular-looking  machine,  in  a  very  dex 
terous  manner,  that  I  could  not  altogether  compre 
hend.  The  alteration,  however,  in  the  entire  expres 
sion  of  the  General's  countenance  was  instantaneous 
and  surprising.  When  he  again  spoke,  his  voice  had 
resumed  all  that  rich  melody  and  strength  which  I 
had  noticed  upon  our  original  introduction. 

'  D  —  n  the  vagabonds!  "  said  he,  in  so  clear  a 
tone  that  I  positively  started  at  the  change.  "  D  —  n 
the  vagabonds!  they  not  only  knocked  in  the  roof 
of  my  mouth,  but  took  the  trouble  to  cut  off  at  least 
seven-eighths  of  my  tongue.  There  isn't  Bonfanti's 
equal,  however,  in  America,  for  really  good  articles 
of  this  description.  I  can  recommend  you  to  him 
with  confidence"  (here  the  General  bowed),  "and 
assure  you  that  I  have  the  greatest  pleasure  in  so 
doing. ' ' 

I  acknowledged  his  kindness  in  my  best  manner, 
and  took  leave  of  him  at  once,  with  a  perfect  under 
standing  of  the  true  state  of  affairs,  with  a  full  com 
prehension  of  the  mystery  which  had  troubled  me 
so  long.  It  was  evident.  It  was  a  clear  case.  Brevet 
Brigadier-General  John  A.  B.  C.  Smith  was  the  man  — 

Was  THE  MAN  THAT  WAS  USED  UP. 


328 


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